Feverish Misconceptions
by Phoenix003
Summary: The story of Finnick Odair as told by those closest to him. Part one is about Finnick. Part two is about Annie.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

_**Finnick Odair, aged 8. District 4**_

The inky waves swelled around his ankles under the watchful eye of the dying sun, as he sighed in frustration. He'd been waiting for what seemed like hours to an eight-year old boy, and still he'd not spotted a single fish.

His father, noticing the boy's increasing restlessness, offered his son some guidance, saying, "You'll never catch a fish if you keep moving your feet like that. Fish can feel your movements in the water."

It was a warm evening, and the stretch of beach where they were standing held several other families, also trying to catch a few more fish to complete their Capitol quota before the fish were taken in the morning. This was the first time Tomas Odair had brought his youngest son, Finnick with him and so he wasn't really expecting anything from the boy. In time he'd learn spear fishing, just like his older brother Hayden, who at age eleven was becoming a real asset to the family.

Finnick wriggled his toes in the loose, wet sand, scrunching up his face as he spoke, "But I can't be completely still. That's impossible. I still have to breath. Won't the fish feel that?"

Tomas Odair chuckled quietly to himself. His two boys were so different to each other, even now. Where his older son Hayden was quiet and serious, happy to accept things as they were, Finnick was chatty and playful. And so curious. Finnick questioned everything. Why they had to fish. Why they couldn't just go and live in the Capitol. Why there were districts. Tomas didn't want to break his younger son's childish innocence just yet. He didn't want to break to him the harsh unjustness of their lives, so he tried to shield the boy as much as he could. He knew one day his boy would have the same hard look in his eyes as the rest of the district, the same hard look that was starting to form in Hayden's face. But for now, Tomas would let him be a child.

"It's not about making the fish think you're not there, Finnick. It's about convincing them you're not a threat."

Finnick seemed to consider this. "And then you get them when they think they're safe?" he asked.

"Yes. You get them when they think they're safe." Tomas agreed, not realising then how true his words would turn out to be.


	2. Hayden (1)

**PART ONE: FINNICK ODAIR**

**"_Of course it's Finnick, who seems to have spent his childhood doing nothing but wielding tridents and manipulating ropes into fancy knots for nets"- Catching Fire, Chapter 16_**

**HAYDEN (1)**

**_Hayden Odair, aged 17. District 4_**

Hayden always finds school interesting. There always seems to be something new to learn about, something he hasn't considered before. Like how water forms clouds, which form rain. Or how an object floating on water depends solely on the weight of the water it displaces. Who would have guessed? He loves facts, and he collects them like shells. Which is why he is rather upset when he has to leave school early.

It isn't unusual. Lots of his peers have already left to help their families with the fishing quota. There is only so much you needed to learn from books when you're destined to be a fisherman, after all. And Hayden, as the eldest child, is the only one who can really help his father and uncle now their grandfather has passed on.

Still, it doesn't stop the bitterness he feels settle into his gut every time he watches his two younger siblings getting ready for another full day of learning. Yet again Hayden finds himself cursing the day he was born first. Being the oldest sibling is a responsibility. Relied upon more, asked more of. Reaped first. He isn't really angry at his parents for asking more of him than the younger siblings, but it is irritating on a day like today when he gets to watch them playing in the surf, having finished school for the day, whilst he helps his father and uncle pack away the boat and haul up the fish they'd been up early to catch.

Looking across to them, he can see they are playing Finnick's kicking ball game which he had devised several years ago. There aren't many rules, the main one seeming to be keep the ball out of the sea. Finnick likes to dribble it along the flat sand next to the surf, which always makes their little sister Sammy laugh and screech, thinking that the ball will end up in the water and be swept out with the tide.

Finnick is always making people laugh. It's the sort of thing that comes easily to him, but that Hayden never seems to be able to do. Sammy finds him hilarious, and he is always cracking up uncle Benjen when he comes round, no matter how much of a mood he's in to start with. Hayden wishes he wasn't jealous of his fourteen year old little brother, but it's difficult being related to Finnick.

No matter how similar they are in appearance- long limbed, bronzed skin and hair, sharp features- they couldn't be more different in personality. Most people would probably describe Hayden as boring- an adjective he would vehemently protest, as being quiet and thoughtful, and being boring are quite different things. However, Finnick could never be accused of being mundane. Even before the Hunger Games, people know who Finnick Odair is. He's charming, he's funny, he's beautiful. And he's top of his class at the Career Academy. When he's eighteen, he'll volunteer, and maybe he'll come back.

The Career Academy is open to anyone in District 4, as long as their families can afford to spare them time to train. Some parents, like Tomas and Kay Odair, don't like the idea of teaching their children how to kill other children, especially since people in Four don't need to be afraid of the reaping as mostly of the time there is always a volunteer. However, many people still sign up for training in hope of a better live for themselves and their families. Each year the Career tributes are chosen from the Academy, before the reaping. The top tributes from this year's class have probably already been picked to volunteer for the 65th Hunger Games. Finnick had begged their father to let him train at the Academy and somehow their father had come round. Finnick can always be persuasive. He literally wouldn't let the point drop until their father eventually couldn't take it anymore and gave in. Hayden isn't really sure why Finnick was so obsessed with the idea, but it probably has something to do with the fact that he's realised his only other potential future is fishing. Patience is one thing that doesn't come naturally to Hayden's brother.

As it stands, District Four is fairly successful in the Hunger Games. This year, District 4 can currently boast eight victors, although only seven are living. The most recent Victor, Seaton Pura, won five years ago after strangling the other tributes in nets he had made. Hayden didn't think the Capitol liked his Games very much though. Not bloody enough. Or maybe they just didn't find him interesting enough as a Victor.

Realising he's focusing too much on watching Finnick and Sammy's ball game, instead of the task at hand- lowering the sail, Hayden tries to turn his back on the pair of them, letting the rough, wet rope slide across his palms. The muscles in his back are beginning to hurt and he can't wait to get home and sit down. His father has followed his gaze and spotted his two younger children on the edge of the shore.

"Finn! Sammy!" he calls out to them, gesturing for them to approach.

"Oh to be young, eh?" Hayden's father's younger brother, Benjen, sighs dramatically, as they watch the two children running towards them. Sammy's red hair streams out behind her. Benjen throws Hayden a lopsided grin, which Hayden returns half-heartedly as he continues to work on removing the sail from the boom.

Benjen has an easy-going sense of humour, if somewhat lewd and self-deprecating, and the two of them had never been particularly close until Hayden began working on the boat with him and his father. He always gets the sense that Benjen isn't quite sure how to interact with him, especially with his father around, so they are still trying to adjust to being in each other's presence for long periods of time. Benjen's own child, his cousin Leah, is still just a toddler so Hayden supposes he just isn't really used to teenagers.

As Finnick and Sammy come up level with them on the dock, their father starts dolling out baskets of fish for them to carry. Sammy's cheeks are pink from the running, and Finnick's bronze curls look a little unruly.

"That's not too heavy for you is it sweetheart?" their father is saying to Sammy as he balances a basket across her outstretched arms. The fish held within it are balanced so high that you almost can't see her little red head over the top.

"I'll take that one," Finnick cuts in, plucking the basket up and out of the reach of her outstretched fingers. She protests against his theft and tries to grab the basket back, but Finnick just holds it higher and sends her a cheeky smile.

It doesn't take long in the end to unload all the fish, and drop off the Capitol quota that each fishing boat must meet at the quay. The group make their way home slowly, where Finnick's mother has prepared dinner for them. It's fish of course, and it's very welcome after the tiring day Hayden has had.

A couple of hours later Hayden finds himself sitting out on the beach with his brother and some of the neighbourhood kids as they work on repairing nets. There are five of them, the usual gang: Hayden and Finnick, lanky Joe and his twin sister Mab, and Leila, whose grandmother lived down the lane.

They are sat together around the strange blue-green flames of a driftwood fire. The sun is setting now, but the air is still warm, smelling like sweat and fish. The sky is bathed in beautiful shades of pink and orange, whilst the colours of the driftwood flames dance over the black waves. The beach is quiet that night; the heaviness of tomorrow's reaping hangs over the whole District.

They don't talk much as they fix the nets, but it's a companionable silence that's settled between them. Hayden wonders if the others are nervous about the reaping tomorrow. Hayden's name is only in there six times as their family has no need to take out tesserae. One advantage of having a fishing boat. Finnick's is even safer than him with only three slips, and even if they are picked there is likely to be a volunteer. Still, Hayden can't help feeling a little scared, and wonders if the group's silence is telling.

Digging his toes into the sand and enjoying the warmth against his skin, he watches his brother's sun-browned fingers as they lithely move over the strings, pulling knots. When they were children Finnick had hated this job. He found it monotonous and fiddly and tried to find any excuse not to have to do it. Hayden had loved it because Finnick was terrible at it. Over the years though, Finnick has improved, although he's still not fond of the task.

"I saw you with Valeria Alves the other day," Mab is saying to Finnick, causing him to blush. Mab laughs at his reaction, and scrunches up her freckled nose. The girl they are talking about, Valeria Alves is a girl with long curly brown hair and big brown eyes and Hayden knows that Finnick is a little bit in love with her. He had met his little brother's sort-of girlfriend a few times and she seemed nice enough, if a little quiet. She's not Hayden's type, he thinks as his eyes flick over Mab's sharp features and bright eyes. No, Valeria Alves isn't Hayden's type.

"I didn't realise you knew her," Mab continues, launching into a story about the girl which Hayden doesn't bother listening too. He's finished repairing the hole in his net sits by now, and instead turns to Mab's brother Joe and they start up a game of stone skipping.

They skip stones until the sun is nearly gone and a chill returns to the air. When they finally leave Hayden has almost forgotten what day it is tomorrow. The sea is calming and familiar and it's in his blood. Being a fisherman may not be his first choice (if he had a choice) but its his life and he's content with it.

As they clamber back over the dunes to get home, he glances over at his brother, but Finnick's expression is unreadable.

**X**

The next day his mother wakes him up.

"Come on, Hayden. We have to be down by the Justice Building soon. You've overslept."

Today is reaping day.

Hayden isn't scared. Not exactly. Still, there's a certain tension in his muscles and he tries to ignore the way his heart is racing in his chest.

The reapings across all the districts are held at different times. District 4's is at 10.30, meaning he only has about half an hour to get ready before they need to leave the house.

He quickly gets dressed in an old suit of his father's and tries to tame his bed hair, but gives up so that he has time to eat some breakfast. His parents and siblings are already at the table.

Sammy is only eight, and so not old enough to be reaped yet, but Finnick at fourteen had already been to two reapings. He looks pale this morning, tugging nervously at the tie knotted around his neck, and frowning as their mother tries to smooth down his bronze curls. They don't talk much and tension is heavy in the air as they arrive at District 4's Justice Building half an hour later. Finnick slopes off to join the other fourteen year olds and before long Hayden finds himself penned into a roped off area with all the boys he used to go to school with.

Looking up to the stage Geena, the Capitol representative for District 4 stands, ready to pick the names of the next Hunger Game tributes. Tall, blonde with cosmetically enlarged violet dyed eyes and pure white, apparently unblemished skin- Geena is the perfect example of a Capitol woman. She has been around years though, suggesting that she isn't as young as she appears. Behind her Hayden can see the previous victors. There are seven of them, all with the same blank expressions painted on their faces.

He tenses as Geena clears her throat on the stage.

"Ladies first as usual," She says, dipping her hand into the glass reaping ball. Her long talons catch a slip of paper and she glances at it. Scanning the crowd of girls she smiles sickly sweet, and in her clear Capitol accent, reads out the name, "Auricula Rankine".

The girl in question however doesn't even have time to react before a dozen voices shout, almost in unision, "I volunteer!" Three girls have stepped forwards, and after a moment of discussion the tallest one is picked.

The girl steps up to stage and Hayden can't help appreciating the way her long golden hair shines in the sunlight and how low cut her dress is. They find out that this girl's name is 'Blye Yale' and that she is eighteen years old. She looks like a typical career.

Geena reaches into the male reaping ball next, and brings a slip of paper to her eyes. She reads out the name and it's not Hayden.

"Citron Pitvale"

The crowd jostles, and a small sandy haired boy appears. His face is white and he looks like he's about to be sick. Just looking at his thin arms and lanky body Hayden knows that this boy will be one of the people to die straightaway. Still, he can't help but feel a rush of relief that it's not him. That he's free for another year. Just one more year now, and then he's free. Forever.

The pale boy take a single step in the direction of the stage, but then suddenly a voice cuts across the hush of the crowd. A volunteer. And the crowd begins to jostle again until a new boy appears. Citron Pitvale almost collapses in on himself in relief, but Hayden isn't watching him anymore. Instead he's watching long golden limbs climb the stairs, and suddenly there's a rushing in his ears and he feels warm and he can't breathe. He can't breathe.

"My, my, District 4 have a handsome one this year," Geena croons. "What's your name then?"

And the boy steps forward. And Hayden realises then that he never should have been afraid for himself.

"Finnick Odair."

**X**

"Finnick's always been vulnerable," their mother had once said to their father. "He tries to hide it, but he really is a sweet boy. He's not made for this fisherman's life."

And he wasn't. Finnick wasn't patient. He couldn't sit still and wait for the fish to bite. He hated mending nets and all he ever wanted to do was swim. But up until their grandfather died Hayden had never understood what their mother meant by vulnerable. Finnick had always seemed larger than life. He was confident, and fun and knew how to talk to people. How could a boy like that be vulnerable?

Then their grandfather had had a heart attack. It was very sudden. One day he had been fine and happy and joking like usual. The next day he was dead. Hayden didn't even know what the last thing he said to him was. _What do you say to someone when it might be the last time?_

Finnick had cried at the funeral but Hayden had stood there stoically, watching as his body was taken out to sea. A proper fisherman's burial. Finnick kept crying. Hayden heard him at night in the room they shared when he was trying to sleep. He wondered how his brother had so many tears, yet he couldn't even manage to summon one.

"He spent his whole life fishing for the Capitol," Finnick had said later. "He lived and he died as a fisherman. Just like everyone else who lives here. Just like we will. But I don't want that to be my life. I can't stand it. I want my life to mean something."

**X**

Hayden's mother is hysterical. Her fingers are white where they are gripping tightly to his father's arm, but he doesn't seem to notice. They are ushered through the Justice Building and into a room with thick red carpets and velvet couches. Finnick is sitting in the middle of one of them and Hayden can't remember a time he's seemed so small. _Vulnerable,_ his mother's voice echoes in his head.

But he smiles when he sees them, even as the tears fall down their mother's cheeks and she launches herself at him. She's sobbing something but the sound is muffled where her face is pressed into his shoulder.

Later, Hayden can't remember what they say. _What do you say to someone when it might be the last time?_ All he remembers are his mother's tears, and his father's silence and the wide look in his little sister's eyes. He doesn't remember what they say, but he does remember what they don't say. It's when they all turn to leave, and no one has said it, and why has no one said it?

When he's the only one left in the room, it suddenly rushes out of him.

"Why did you do it?"

But even as the words form, Hayden knows the answer. He's always known somewhere deep down that it would come to this. But still he needs to hear it.

But Finnick stays quiet, and Hayden hates him more than anything in that moment.

But his eyes are speaking. _That can't be my life_, they say.

Finnick says nothing, but Hayden understands and he tries to accept.

**X**

There are no cameras on the platform, no crowd to send they on their way. Their escort Geena, and two Victors, appear, escorted by guards. Mags, the seventy-year-old woman, and Seaton, the twenty-something-year-old, must be the mentors this year. Peacekeepers hurry everyone on to the train and slam the door. The wheels begin to turn.

Watching out the window as District 4 disappears around a corner; Finnick Odair says a final goodbye, wondering if he'll ever return.


	3. Finnick (1)

**Finnick Odair, aged 14. District 4.**

_Valeria Alves is beautiful. Her hair is long and brown and curly. Her teeth are a little too big for her mouth, and her smile makes something tingle in Finnick's stomach. He watches as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and writes something down from the board. Perhaps he should be paying attention himself, but to be honest he can't really see the point in it. __In the end it doesn't matter if he can factorise quadratic equations does it? He'll just end up being a fisherman like his father, and his father before him. Fishermen don't need maths._

_Finnick notices Valeria is suddenly looking in his direction then, and he unabashedly stares back. Her because her cheeks turn red and she looks away, but Finnick can see she's smiling, making him grin._

_"Odair! Pay attention!"_

_Finnick is brought out of his silent daydream by the angry voice of his teacher, Mr Harrison. Rubbing his tired eyes, he sits up slowly and tries to understand what's going on. At the front of the room Liat Cresta is standing poised at the whiteboard, evidently having just solved the complicated maths problem written there._

_Liat is one of those clever people, who always seem to understand what's going on and never get into trouble. Finnick wishes he could be more like him._

_"Mr Odair. Now that you've so kindly decided to join us, why don't you assist Mr Cresta by telling him where he's gone wrong?" Mr Harrison says._

_Narrowing his eyes to try and see the numbers correctly Finnick quickly looks over Liat's careful calculations. He had no idea what it all means- it all seems like mush to him._

_"Well Mr Odair?" The teacher was getting impatient._

_"I'm sorry sir. I don't know," He admits gingerly._

_"As I thought. May I suggest that you actually pay attention Mr Odair?" Mr Harrison scolded._

_No you may not__, Finnick thinks, and returns to watching Valeria Alves out of the corner of his eye. Maybe if he asked her down to the pier she would say yes?_


	4. Mags (1)

"_**May the odds be ever in your favor."- The Hunger Games, Chapter 1**_

**MAGS (1)**

_**Mags Flanagan, aged 70. On the way to the Capitol**_

"Two volunteers again," Adrian had been saying. "Why do they all want to volunteer?"

"You were a volunteer," someone had reminded him, but Adrian hadn't been listening. They're Victors after all. The reaping brings out something ugly in all of them, and in Adrian it brings out the same rant year after year.

He's right though. It always seems to be volunteers these days. They all have the same bright hope in their eyes, and they all know the same training tricks. They all believe they'll be the one to make it home. But Mags has seen them die year after year just the same. No, skills are not enough to win the games. To win the games you need to make them root for you.

The boy is young. Mags can't understand why he's here yet. He's a career tribute alright, but he's still got a few more years at the academy left. What is he doing here now? He'd seemed confident on the stage, but so young. So young to throw his life away.

_The Capitol will eat him up_, she knows. She tries to push the thought away but it lingers coldly in the back of her mind. They will eat him up, the young pretty boy who volunteered for his District. It makes a nice story. Snow will try and spin it. He's exactly the sort of tribute they want.

"I'll mentor the boy," she had said. A split decision, but the right one she knows. That boy will need help, and she doesn't trust any of her fellow Victors to give him the chance to prove himself.

"You want to mentor?" The surprise has finally killed Adrian's rant. She hasn't mentored a tribute in years. The truth is, she's getting old. Old enough that the Capitol have forgotten about her. Years have made her safe. But the boy… Perhaps she sees a little of herself in him.

"I'll mentor the boy," she repeats firmly.

Which is why she finds herself on the train an hour later, heading back to the one place she hated the most.

**X**

Everyone's quiet at dinner. Mags had almost forgotten the taste of rich Capitol food- puréed vegetable soup, fish cakes with creamy lime paste, little birds full of orange sauce with wild rice and watercress. Both tributes seem a little dazed. Mags isn't sure if it's the overwhelming events of the day, or the exotic platter laid out in front of them that is responsible. She can barely remember her first trip to the Capitol. It seems like another lifetime.

The dessert is brought out- chocolate custard dotted with cherries.

After dessert Geena says, "Shall we watch the recap of the reapings?" She's looking at the boy. If Mags hadn't known better, she would have guessed he was older than fourteen. He's already quite tall, with a hint of muscle. Mags can see one day he will be beautiful but she hadn't realised what that meant until she saw the way the escort was looking at him. She feels a sense of guilt then. Perhaps this wasn't the right thing she was doing. Perhaps she shouldn't have come after all. Perhaps it would be better for him to die in that arena.

They move into the living compartment, the one with the television. The boy settles into an armchair and everyone else finds themselves a seat so that they can watch the competition. They are all seated as the anthem begins to play and the annual recap of the reaping ceremonies in the twelve districts begin.

Only a few stick out: from District 1, a thickset boy named Andradite, with long pale hair. From District 2, a crafty looking red-haired girl, Sagitarria. The girl from 7, Rupalia, looks interesting, but Mags can't honestly say why. She is about the same age as Mag's tribute, with long dark hair and hazel eyes, nothing spectacular. Perhaps it is her expression- she looks like a fighter.

"Well then, there you are," Seaton says when the Capitol seal comes onto the screen to symbolise the end of the broadcast. He's volunteered to mentor the girl this year. She's his first tribute since he won five years ago.

"Looks like there's some pretty tough competition!" Geena says, but there's something wrong about the way she says it. She seems far to cheerful to make that statement. Or maybe it's just her accent.

"I can handle it," The girl, Blye, says airily.

Mags doesn't get a chance to talk to the boy properly until the next morning.

He wakes up late, so by the time he appears Seaton and Blye have already eaten and are off somewhere discussing tactic. When he enters the dining compartment only Mags is sitting at the table.

"How are you this morning, boy?" Mags greets him, gesturing for him to sit down. She watches as he surveys the piles of food on the table, eyes looking a little wide. Eggs, ham, piles of fried potatoes. A tureen of fruit sits in ice to keep it chilled. The basket of rolls they've set before him would keep a whole family going for a week. There's orange juice, coffee and hot chocolate.

The boy pours himself cup of coffee, but leaves everything else.

"I've been better," he replies. "Where is everyone?"

"Well I don't know about Geena, but Seaton wanted to mentor Blye- that's where they are. Hope you don't mind being stuck with me." Mags says.

The boy takes a sip of his drink. "No that's fine...So you're supposed to give me advice?" he asks.

"I'm here to help you," she offers. He seems to consider this.

"We'll be in the Capitol soon," she adds, and the boy nods in response.

"So Finnick," she says, trying his name out for the first time. "What are you doing here?"

And it all tumbles out of him in a jumble. About fishermen and his grandfather, and about how he wanted his life to be his own.

"I couldn't spend another year just pretending" he says.

_Oh you silly boy,_ Mags thinks_. Your whole life from this point forward is pretending._

His weapon of choice is a trident, apparently. He notices how she frowns as he says it.

"What's wrong with a trident?" he asks, amused.

"It's just that they hardly ever have tridents in the arena. We'll have to think of something Finnick."

They talk for a long time, and at some point the boy does end up eating some food. It's afternoon when Geena comes back into the room, followed by Blye and Seaton.

"Look out the window- you can see the Capitol!" Geena announces excitedly.

The Capitol. She's not been back in years but Mags can still remember the first time she saw it. The vibrancy of colour, the fine grandeur of the city. Oddly dressed people with bizarre hair and painted faces, shiny cars that seem to fill up the whole of the roads, and above them- towering buildings that cast a shadow over everything else. There was something compelling about the place, the first time she saw it. She still had hope then. She sees the same hope in Finnick Odair's eyes as he rushes over to the window. She watches him take it all in and she understands him. Anyone who hopes to be anyone, is in the Capitol. And he hopes to be someone.

**X**

The boy has been trained well. He knows how to throw a spear, how to cut someone with a knife. He has district skills as well; he can tie knots, set a driftwood fire and catch fish.

"My father has a fishing boat," he explains. "I sometimes help out."

"If they have a trident at the training centre avoid it at all costs," Mags suggests. "Save that for your own session, don't let the others know what you're best at."

Mags also encourages him to learn some survival skills.

"Plants are important," she says. "They'll have many you've never seen before in the arena. Learn which ones are safe to eat and which ones might have medicinal value. You don't know what arena you're going to get."

Whilst he trains, she schmoozes. It's not hard to find him sponsors. The boy is already a favourite to win, and Mags finds that people are constantly coming up to her to ask about her new tribute.

"You'll find out more at the interview," she keeps saying, but she takes their money anyway. The boy won't be going hungry, that's for sure.

Finnick comes back from the training centre each day with tales of the other tributes. He tells Mags about the District 2 girl, Sagitarria, who followed him to the camouflage station, and insisted on making up his face with the paints.

He tells her about Andradite, the brute from District 1, who made Finnick watch as he picked up a handful of different knives, and threw them in quick succession at the target board. They all hit, peppering the target like arrows, but only one stuck in the middle of the board.

"District 4 typically produce strong career tributes," she had told him on the train. "You have that image to uphold if you want to get in with the group, and I advise you do. At least to begin with."

By day two Finnick is firmly within the career alliance.

For his individual session at the end of the week, Mags urges him to show off. Without a trident, he does some work with a spear, ands set a snare. It's nothing particularly creative but they hope it's enough. Mags can't help but feel a sense of pride as the scores come out later that evening, and a huge number ten flashes up next to the boy's white-teethed grin.

"Ten!" Geena squeals. "That's the same as the District 2 boy."

"I knew you could do it, darling" his stylist adds. Mags feel a bit embarrassed for the woman. Does she not realise he's only a child? But things in the Capitol are different. Age is irrelevant when you can look young forever.

The girl, Blye, receives an eight, and although she tries not to show it, Mags can tell she's upset that she didn't get higher.

She smiles kindly at the girl and addressing the room in general she says, "Well I'm glad District 4 has two good tributes. If you'll excuse me, I'll retire for the evening." Then looking at Finnick she adds, "Be up early tomorrow, boy. We've got to coach you for your interview."

Not that he needs much coaching. The boy is a natural charmer. He's been playing the game since he arrived without even realising it.

It's too late to choose an angle now of course. Geena set him on the path when she declared him 'District 4's handsome tribute' at the Reaping. The damage has been done. So Mags works with it, trying to rectify the situation in any way she can.

Later she might blame herself for what happens to him. But she comes to accept that Capitol would always have made him into what they wanted anyway.

"Sexy but completely innocent," she tells the boy. "That's the way you need to play this."

"Why innocent? I'm not sure I want to be innocent," he says, scrunching up his nose in displeasure. Mags laughs at the annoyance in his sea green eyes. At the innocence there.

"You're too young to be sexy in your own right," she says. "If you tried it that way you'd seem false and make people feel as though they had been cheated. No, you need to remind them of your innocence and they'll open their hearts to you."

Innocence can be its own brand of sexy, Mags knows. It can be just as enticing as experience- when someone is free from corruption, when cynicism has yet to reach their core. Perhaps it will also remind them of his youth, Mags hopes.

Caesar Flickerman's hair has been dyed green this year which Mags thinks makes him look more than a little ill. He gestures for Amethyst, the female tribute from District 1, to join him at the front of the stage, and she eagerly complies. She has been dressed in a sparkling purple gown- likely inspired by her namesake. Although she looks beautiful in a typical movie star way, Mags can't help feeling it is reminiscent of a little girl dressing up in her mother's clothes.

The interview only lasts for three minutes, before the next tribute goes on. They all try desperately to stand out. One goes for elegance, another for ruthlessness. The District 2 boy tries for mystery, his female counterpart is charming.

When Blye goes up to take her position on stage, she is amiable enough. She talks about her family and friends, a boyfriend who works at the docks.

"And what do you think about the other tributes?" Caesar asks her. "Especially your own District partner. Finnick Odair seems to have made quite an impact on the Capitol ladies."

The crowd screams in agreement. Mags watches as the camera zoomes in on him, and as he tries out their practised smile. _A little coy, with a hint of mischief._ She'd made him practise biting his lip in the mirror, all the while trying to push down thoughts of how she was becoming a part of the exploitation.

"Finnick's great. He's really charming. Our fathers work together on the same dock, so I used to see him down at the harbour a lot."

Really? Mags doesn't know if it's true or not, but he imagines it's something Seaton might have told her to say. It's becoming hard to deny Finnick's popularity in the Capitol. Latching onto that in anyway is sure to help the boy's District partner.

Her interview ends shortly after that, and then Finnick is being ushered to the front of the stage.

"Finnick Odair, might I say how handsome you look tonight? Caesar begins, and the room of young Capitol socialites applaud in agreement.

"Thank you, Caesar," the boy replies. Mags can see he's slightly uncomfortable with all the commotion. _He'll get used to it_, she thinks cynically.

"Now then, what do you think of the Capitol? I suppose it's very different from District 4?"

"Well there's a lot more ocean in District 4," Finnick begins and the crowd laughs. "But I have to say," he continues. "I think the Capitol is beautiful in a different way."

"Oh yes? How's that?" Caesar asks amicably.

"Well everything is so colourful and so shiny and the clothes are lovely. Everyone just looks so beautiful here-" He breaks off there and does another sheepish grin. They'd practised this a few times.

"_They'll want to get onto the topic of your love life," _Mags has told him_. "It's important you give them an opportunity to bring it up. It's what your sponsors are dying to know about, but you need to be subtle about it. We don't want them to think you're playing them."_

"Ah, yes. Speaking of which, Finnick, I have received many requests tonight to ask you about any special people in your life." Caesar smiles. "A special girl or boy perhaps?"

"Special people?" Finnick says. He pauses deliberately, dipping his head a little in mock bashfulness.

"We'll keep it a secret," Caesar urges, then turning to the audience he asks, "We can keep a secret, right?" A loud cry of agreement is his response.

"Well," Finnick begins slowly. He meets Mags' eye and he repeats the answer she had suggested "The most special girl in my life is my little sister Sammy. She's eight." This makes the crowd aww, and Caesar chuckle.

"Well, I can't believe that," He replies. "A handsome lad like you?"

"It's true," Finnick says trying to sound honest, because of course it isn't true. Then he decides to add something to tug at the Capitol heart strings. "I guess I'm just waiting for the right person to come along."

The audience are lapping it up, and one women even shouts, "I'm here! I'm the right girl for you Finnick!"

"I suppose then," Caesar says with a touch of seriousness, "That you better win then, so that you can find them."

"I fully intend on doing just that, thank you Caesar." Finnick nods back.

And just then the buzzer goes off.

"No, thank you, Finnick Odair." Caesar says, before turning to the audience and shouting, "District 4's Finnick Odair."

The responding screams and applause that smatters across the room rings on for ages, even after the next tribute is seated and ready for questioning.

"How was I?" Finnick asks Mags later.

She remembers her first thought when she decided to mentor him. _The Capitol will eat him up_. She was right. They had latched onto the boy from the very beginning. He is the perfect tribute- young, beautiful and charming. He's already had so many sponsors, she's not sure if she'll even be able to spend all the money. She knows he's got a very good chance of coming home.

Mags is more worried about what might happen if he does.

But all she does is tell him he did well and encourage him to get some sleep.

**X**

She gives him her final piece of advice as he stands there in a white shift, waiting to board the hovercraft. He doesn't look nervous, but she can tell by the way he keeps fidgeting and from the clench of his fist that he's more afraid than he's letting on.

"Whatever you do, don't trust any of them," Mags says "If I send you anything from sponsor money, try to keep it to yourself, unless you have to share it. And trust your instincts.'

Then she kissed him on the forehead, and whispered 'You'll go far, Finnick Odair'.

She hopes he remembers her advice an hour later as she watches his cylinder rise into the arena. She watches him blink in the sudden light, and shiver in the cold air. This year's arena doesn't look as though it will bode well for a tribute from sunny District 4.

Then the voice of Claudius Templesmith crackles in the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games begin!"


	5. Finnick (2)

**Finnick Odair, aged 14. The Arena**

_White._

_That's what Finnick first sees as his eyes begin to adjust. A blinding whiteness that spreads out like an eternal blanket from his platform. It's so strange, so foreign, to Finnick who has always lived in the sun, and he can't quite believe his eyes. As he struggles in his head to find a name for this new thing, something cold touches his hand. He jerks so violently that it's a miracle he doesn't fall off of his platform. Bringing it towards his face, he scrutinises the bare skin of his palm and is surprised to discover a wet splodge has grown there. On closer inspection, he realises it's not attached to him, but rather has landed on him. That's when he looks around and discovers that more little white splodges are falling from the sky and adding to the white pile around him. Suddenly he remembers the name of the stuff. It's snow._

_Unfortunately, watching the snow falling has brought his attention back to where he is. He's in the arena, and soon the single minute he has to stay on the platform will be up. He's wasted valuable time gaping at the snow. However, looking around, he's obviously not the only one who's never seen snow before. Around him, he can see a few other tributes admiring the snow. The tributes, as usual, are arranged in a ring around the Cornucopia. Finnick can't see his district partner, Blye- she must be around the other side- but a few spaces to his left he sees Sagitarria, the girl from 2. Just as he looks over at her, her eyes turn to meet his. She gives him a nod which Finnick understands to mean, I'll watch your back if you watch mine. He responds with a nod of his own, and then they both turn towards the Cornucopia._

_There's fifteen seconds to go, so Finnick focuses his eyes on the piles of weapons, deciding what to go for. He's a little disappointed that there's no trident, but he always knew it wasn't very likely. Instead he fixes his eyes on a collection of hopeful looking spears lying at the heart of the supplies. Finnick knows that he's a fast runner, and that with Sagitarria looking out for him, he will be able to reach his destination, but still a little seed of doubt worms its way into his mind. No, he tells himself firmly, and determinedly begins to anxiously count down the final few seconds._

_5_

_4_

_3_

_2_

_1_

_The sudden ringing of the gong seems unnaturally loud in the silent arena, but it jerks Finnick into action. He sprints towards the spears, focusing only on reaching them, but finds that the powdery snow slows him down. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a tribute slip over and fall down, but he can't afford to slow. After an age, it seems, he can finally stretch out his arm and pick up the weapon, and does so, feeling much more comfortable with it in his hand. Not far away he sees Sagitarria clutching a pick axe in her right palm, being from District 2- the stonework district- it seems appropriate. She turns around to see him, and smiles a cruel, cold smile._

_It doesn't take long before he sees the District 6 girl picking up a pack a few metres away from him, and acting on the instinct of years of trident fishing he hurls the spear in her direction. It's only when the weapon is out of his hand that he realises what he's done, and as it arcs through the air he half begins to hope it won't hit her. However, Finnick's aim is perfect and the spear lodges itself deep in her back. He stares as she stumbles forwards and as the area around the impending spear begins to grow red._

_Guilt, shame and morbid curiosity merge into one single force, holding to the area. He watches the girl transfixed as she howls in pain and struggles for life. Finnick feels disconnected from the whole event, as though he's in a dream, or watching this girl die on the television set back home. His brain can't seem to make the link between fact and fiction as he gapes with unwavering eyes at the District 6 girl. He can't remember her name- her face is too ordinary, it doesn't stand out. In fact the only reason he recognises her as being from District 6 is the thick block fringe covering her forehead and only narrowly avoiding her eyes._

_He's brought out of his stupor by the sound of someone moving behind him. Whirling around, he spies a small blond boy, possibly from District 8, running towards him with a knife. That's when Finnick realises how vulnerable he is- his only weapon, the spear, is still lodged in the District 6 girl's back. He thinks how ironic the situation is- he has been training for most of his life for these games to be accidently killed by a malnourished twelve year old boy. Luckily, at that moment Sagitarria, jumping up from the dead body of a young girl, turns towards him and runs to his rescue. The poor boy doesn't even see her coming before she crashes her pickaxe over his head. The boy crumples to the floor and doesn't move again._

_"Be careful, Pretty Boy. Might not be able to do that again," Sagitarria says as Finnick nods his thanks, then gestures for him to fetch his spear._

_It's a rather gruesome task, dislodging the long shaft from the dead girl's back, and he can't help grimacing at the wet blood that drips from the end when it's out, staining the white snow. Finnick turns back to join the fighting._


	6. Mags (2)

"**As long as you can find yourself, you'll never starve"- The Hunger Games, Chapter 4**

**MAGS (2)**

_**Mags Flanagan, aged 70. The Capitol**_

They've left him behind. He's been left to "guard the camp" whilst the others go out to find more tributes to kill. It's a rocky start to Finnick's career alliance.

"It's probably just because he's the youngest," Cecilia says, trying to comfort Mags.

Maybe she's right, but it's still not good. Mags watches him on her screen as he watches the fire. It was one of the first things he did, build that fire. If he hadn't been part of the career pack she would have scolded his foolishness, but he's probably safe for now. And besides without it, it would probably be too cold in the arena for a boy like him who's lived in the sun since he was born.

She wonders what he sees in the flames. Memories of driftwood bonfires on the beach?

At least he's alert. Mags suspects he's very conscious of the fact that he has been left all alone, so if anyone appears he won't have any help. She notices how he positions a couple of spears close and places a knife in his boot just in case. He has also put on a pair of the glasses that let you see in the dark, so that he will be able to see clearly. Well at least the boy is not stupid.

As the night creeps on he's still alone. Mags watches on the main screen as the rest of the career group track the footprints of the unlikely District 9 girl. She won't make it until morning. But maybe neither will Finnick. He's shivering now, even next to the fire. Silly summer boy.

She sends the first sponsor gift of the 65th Hunger Games. The soft thump in the snow behind him as the parachute lands makes the boy jump hard. Mags watches him as he reels around and scans the area quickly, looking confused. All around white snow gleams back at him. It takes a moment for him to be sure no one else is there, before his eyes sweep the horizon once more. It's then he realises that there is something lying on the floor near him. He edges closer to it slowly, taking comfort in the spear he's holding. And then when he realises it's not dangerous he starts laughing.

Finnick brings the white package back to where he was sitting next to the fire, and opens it up. Black fabric slips out, shimmering slightly in the glow of the fire. The material is stretchy, and silky to touch, and Mags can tell Finnick doesn't know what it is. He's probably wondering why he's been sent it. After examining it carefully for a couple of minutes, the boy comes to the only decision he can: he's going to wear it.

Watching him strip off his outer layers is painful. Mags can't imagine how awful the bitter arctic air feels against bare skin, but Finnick cries out as it sweeps over the exposed areas. He almost sobs in relief when he pulls on the tight black clothing, and Mags hopes they create the sudden warming effect that she was promised. She's proud when he puts his tribute outfit back on over the top, keeping his new gift to himself. It wouldn't be wise to advertise that he's getting sponsorship gifts so soon.

A few minutes later colour is returning to his cheeks again, and Finnick is beginning to realise why he she sent it to him, so it has been a success.

It's several more hours before the rest of careers return, bringing with them the news of two more deaths. The District 2 girl, Sagitarria plonks herself down to the right of Finnick, far closer than she needs to be. Mags recalls Finnick telling him how this girl followed him around the training centre. Looks like someone has a little crush. She begins describing to him, in graphic detail, the murders of the girl from 9 and the boy from 12 at the hands of Andradite and Amethyst, the District 1 tributes. It's a little too vivid and Mags watches as Finnick wrestles to keep his expression neutral.

The whole group eats some food they find in the packs, warming it up on Finnick's fire. They seem generally in a good mood. Afterwards, with Amethyst staying up to watch, the rest of them unroll their sleeping bags and try to sleep.

**X**

The relationships between Victors during the Hunger Games can be somewhat strained. Everyone wants their own tribute to win. (Or almost everyone, Mags thinks, looking at Haymitch Abernathy). When their tribute dies, a Victor can't help but feel guilty, even if they knew the tribute would never make it. Sometimes they take it out on the mentors who still have tributes left.

When Finnick Odair is the one to find the trail of the District 10 girl Mags becomes the focus of this.

"You were right then, pretty boy." District 1's Andradite hisses on screen, turning to face Finnick. There's a nasty gleam in his piercing blue eyes.

'Pretty boy' is the nickname the careers have started using for him, and it's caught on in the mentor room.

"That boy's a brute," Blight says behind Mags. "Your little pretty boy better watch out." He's leaning against a table with Haymitch Abernathy, the two of them passing a bottle between them. Both of their tributes died in the initial bloodbath, and they now have to wait around until the end of the Games to go home.

In the arena, Andradite is still talking. "And since you worked out where to find the idiot," he drawls slowly at Finnick, "You can have the honour of killing them."

So it's a test then. Mags hopes Finnick will understand. She is fairly certain that if the boy refuses, Andradite will just kill him. She watches as he swallows heavily, but replies in a steady voice, "Sure."

His facial expression doesn't display any reluctance and Mags wonders if it's appropriate to be proud in this situation that the lessons she gave him on schooling his face seem to be working.

"He's good at taking orders then. That'll be good practise," Haymitch slurs loudly. It hits a nerve and Mags spins her chair around to face him.

Both men laugh at the angry expression on her face.

"Come on, Magsy. As if you don't know what'll happen to that little pretty boy if he makes it out of there," Haymitch says, gesturing flamboyantly toward the screen. "He'll be on his back within five minutes. I don't know why you're even bothering to keep him alive."

Blight says something under his breath that Mags doesn't catch and the pair start guffawing again.

Mags turns back to her screen and tries to ignore them, but it's difficult to forget what Haymitch said since it's exactly the same thing she's been thinking for days. In the arena Finnick is leading now, following the fresh footprints in the snow. They make as little noise as they can just in case the tribute is near.

And it turns out they are. As the boys turn a corner, the camera switches to a girl crouched in front of a fire. She appears to be warming something on it, maybe some food, maybe herself. The pair move closer, until they are standing only a few metres away. Then she seems to hear them, as she spins around suddenly, bringing up a pointed wooden stick that appears to be her only weapon. Seeing her close up, Mags recognises her as the girl from District 10.

"Please don't hurt me," she says eyes wide, as she takes in the forms of both boys.

But laughing cruelly, Andradite just runs up to her, dodging the pointed staff, and knocks her to the ground. Then he holds her struggling down in the snow as he calls to Finnick.

"Do it then, pretty boy. As agreed."

Mags feels a sense of dread in her chest as Finnick walks over to the girl, spear raised above her chest. She looks up at him with big brown eyes, wet with tears. The camera zooms right in onto her face so that everyone can see her full lips and the dull white teeth behind. Her chest rises and falls quickly, and she stops struggling.

"Please." She begs, and Mags doesn't know whether she's pleading for life or for death.

"Do it." Andradite says.

Finnick closes his eyes.

And brings the spear down straight into her heart.

Across the mentor room Alyss Bellhair, the girl's mentor, throws up her arms and swears loudly.

Mags watches Finnick slowly pull the spear back out from the girl's chest. Her blood seeps onto his hands, and he turns them over to stare at his stained palms.

Andradite doesn't stay to watch the blood dye the snow crimson, but instead begins to walk away- back in the direction of the career camp.

"Come on Finnick," he calls back over his shoulder. It's the first time he's ever used the boy's name.

Finnick obviously misses the significance of the moment though. He's still standing next to the dying girl, his spear once again in his hands. Her eyes are watching him, not accusatorily, but sympathetically.

"I'm sorry," Finnick says quietly, addressing the girl. "But it was either you or me."

Then he turns to leave, not wanting to watch the life drain out of her eyes.

As the days progress the snow begins to melt. Mags doesn't notice at first until one of District 2's mentors, Lyme, points it out. Where there was once a beautiful white blanket covering everything. There is now slush and wet puddles. The greenery that was hidden beneath now begins to emerge slowly. The trees are huge, with long leaves and buttress roots. Vines hang down from the taller branches, and huge array of shrubbery seems to sprout up from the ground almost overnight. As the jungle awakens, so does the wildlife. The once quiet nights are now full of the clicking of insects and the howling of monkeys.

And then one night something else.

Finnick's District partner, Blye, is the one keeping watch when they hear the deep growling nearby. Some sort of animal is close, and it's coming closer with every second.

Mags had been asleep until the District 5 mentor had nudged her awake, gesturing to her screen. Through bleary eyes she sees Finnick is also being shaken awake, Blye's voice frantic in his ear, urging him up.

For a few moments he fights against his heavy eyelids, before he opens his blurry eyes. Mags watches as he drags himself to the entrance of his tent. The other careers emerging now too from Blye's calls.

"What is that?" She hears Amethyst ask, a trace of nerves in the District 1 girl's voice. Perhaps she isn't as tough as she seems.

"Mutts," Andradite says the word as though it has just occurred to him, which maybe it has, and glances towards the dark trees with hard eyes. "Come on," he adds, and reached out a thick arm to pick up the spear at his side. "Let's get them."

At his words the rest of the group seem to jump out of their sleep induced confusion, and copy his actions, picking up weapons and getting ready to defend themselves. With a heavy heart, Mags watches Finnick join in, clutching his spear between his hands. She's trying not to think about what will walk through the trees.

And so they wait for the inevitable.

A minute later a huge beast crashes through the edge of the wood, teeth bared, saliva dripping from its overly long canine teeth. Fangs. The creature is some sort of mix between a wolf and a lizard. Hard scaly skin, but pointed ears, snout and muzzle. There are a row of spikes along its back and dotted along its tail as well, and its paws are decked out with five-inch-long claws.

As Mags watches more of the mutts enter into the clearing, snarling and snapping. The camera pans across each of the tributes faces. The girl from 2, Sagitarria, panicky; the girl from her own district, Blye, alarmed; then Finnick, his beautiful face pale, but resolute; the girl from District 1, Amethyst, has broken her usual calm facade; though her District partner and the group leader, Andradite, looks hard and gritty. Last, the camera shows the boy from District 2, Bise, although Mags prefers to call him 'Snake' after seeing what he does when he's alone. The boy is untrustworthy and fearless, a great combination for a tribute, but bad for those up against him. Right now, faced with the growling mutts, the boy merely grins and raises his blade higher.

The mutts and the tributes stand opposite each other, both primed, but neither making the first move, until suddenly Andradite leaps at the closest beast with one carefully planned move, and lops the beast's head clean off. The rest of the animals are spurred into action and charge towards the tributes. Mags watches as her tribute battles a particularly fierce one, dodging the gaping mouth and slashing claws, but unable to make a hit on it. The other tributes are fighting too, and several of the creatures are dead. When Bise makes a daring move by jumping onto a creature's back to spear it in the head, the mutt that Finnick can't shake off is distracted and he is able to plunge the spear deep into the animal's chest. A bloodcurdling roar bellows from the animal, and it turns back to Finnick, whipping its tail around. With a loud thump the spikes crash into Finnick's back, and Mags winces at the look of shock and pain on his face. Finnick begins to fall backwards, but then suddenly he surges forwards again, and jabs the spear back wildly at the beast, hitting its shoulder, then again and again, until the beast crumples at his feet and moves no more. Then Finnick allows himself to fall.

In a corner of the clearing Bise is simultaneously taking on two of the mutts with the skill of a lifelong assassin. To his left Amethyst and Sagitarria are battling a third, whilst the fourth and final beast remaining is being tackled by Andradite and Blye. The fourth creature has a gash along its stomach and blood is gushing out. It doesn't have long, and seems to know this as in one last desperate move it leaps towards Andradite and pins him to the ground. It bares its bloody fangs as looks about to rip the boy's throat out.

"Blye!" Andradite calls out desperately to his fighting partner, but the girl just stands there frozen with fear, as if she means to let him die. The beast raises its terrible head and is about to strike, but suddenly the head isn't there anymore. Bise has leaped in at the last moment, somehow managing to single-handedly defeat the two creatures he was fighting, and swoop to the District 1 boy's rescue.

Within minutes the remaining mutt is dead as well, and the tributes walk over to where Andradite is facing the still frozen Blye, with a thunderous expression on his face. Finnick hobbles over to join them, trying not to show that he's in pain, and stands with his back facing away from the group. From the angle of the camera, Mags can see the blood seeping through the back of the boy's jumpsuit and feels sick.

"You were just going to let me DIE!?" Andradite bellows at the terrified District 4 girl. He is absolutely furious, and Mags can sense what's going to happen before it does.

"We're supposed to be allies!" He continues, and then, before he can even have thought about it properly he drives the spear he is still clutching in his grimy hand into the chest of the poor girl and watches, still seething, as she collapses on to the snow, and her blood runs and mixes with that of the dead creatures.

Sitting at the desk next to Mags, her fellow District 4 mentor Seaton flinches away from his screen. He turns to her and they share a look.

Now Finnick is their tribute.

She watches Finnick's face as his District partner dies, not able to watch the deed itself, and sees the horror reflected in his sea green eyes. And then it changes to understanding. That's the moment that Mags realises Finnick isn't going to stay any longer.

X

Later, this is the moment that haunts Finnick the most.

The tributes have returned to their tents, leaving Sagitarria on watch, to try and get some more sleep. Finnick however, just sits there staring into the darkness.

Mags and Seaton watch, both gathered together at her screen now, as Finnick quietly gathers all of the things he can afford to take with him and stuffs them into his pack. He attaches his sleeping bag to the outside of the bag and pulls himself out of the tent mouth, leaves the pack just inside the tent entrance. He has to deal with the girl first.

The District 2 girl hears him come outside, and glances around curiously. The clearing is now full of moonlight, and it makes her red hair appear lighter, and her thin features softer.

"What's wrong, Finnick?" She asks gently, her eyes scanning his handsome face, anxiously. If she suspects anything then she doesn't let on.

"I couldn't sleep," Finnick says quietly, yet loud enough that his voice carries to her. It's not the one that he normally uses, but the silky-smooth variation that Mags made him practise in the Capitol, honed to perfection and oozing with charm. "Not when I knew you were out here alone."

"What's he doing?" Seaton asks Mags softly.

"He's leaving," she says as they watch the small smile spreads across the girl's face onscreen.

Finnick moves closer so that they are face to face.

"I was wondering," he continues, "How you feel about me?" A slight pause. "I mean, I was curious to know if you feel the same way about me, that I feel about you?" Slowly he reaches out and takes her hands in his own. To everyone watching, it's obvious how Sagitarria feels about him. It's been obvious from the moment the games began that she would like to me more than friends, and maybe in different circumstances they could have been. Or maybe not.

Finnick leans in closer so that his face is centimetres from her own, and whispers softly, "How do you feel about me, Sagitarria? Won't you tell me?"

She responds more quickly and more aggressively than he was obviously expecting her to, as Finnick has to fling out a hand behind him to brace himself when she launches herself at him. She's kissing him. She's so absorbed in Finnick that she doesn't notice when he reaches with one hand to the belt of his tunic. Sagitarria doesn't notice the knife in her back until Finnick pulls away. Then she just stares at Finnick as her legs give out and she falls over, onto her side. She keeps staring as he walks back to his tent and picks up his pack, wincing as he has to haul it onto his back. As he walks out of the clearing, he glances back at her body, and her wide glassy eyes look back. This time dead.


	7. Finnick (3)

**Finnick Odair, aged 14. The Capitol**

_They are taken to a place called the 'Remake Centre' where Finnick is introduced to his prep team, scarily unnatural looking people whose job it is to make him look 'fabulous'. One of them, a young woman, whistles when she sees him saying, "They were right. District 4 is good looking. Adilia will have fun with this one."_

_They then proceed to strip him and scrub him down with a gritty foam, moisturise his skin, clean the dirt out from under his nails before cutting them, and even plucking his eyebrows. They spend ages washing and re-washing the sea salt out from his hair, and conditioning it until it shines like the sun._

_Eventually they pull Finnick from the table, removing the thin robe he's been allowed to wear on and off. He stands there, completely naked, as three of them admire their work. It's a little awkward and Finnick isn't quite sure what to do with his hands._

_"You are absolutely gorgeous darling. I just want to take you home with me!" One of them comments._

_"How old did you say you were?" The second asks._

_"Fourteen," he replies and all three of them sigh. He can feel his cheeks getting warm from all the eyes upon him._

_"What a shame," the last one says, leaving him confused._

_"Anyway- Adilia wants to see you now." The second one says, and they all leave the room._

_Unsure what he's supposed to be doing, Finnick stays standing in the middle of the room without any clothes on, until a tall blonde woman walks in. Or at least she looks blonde at first glance, but as she gets closer Finnick notices the way it's shimmering a strange sort of metallic gold in the afternoon sun. Her skin is embedded with red jewels Finnick has no name for, and her lips have been pumped up to double their normal size. Finnick can't help feeling slightly anxious if this is his stylist._

_She stops a few steps away from him and runs her eyes down over the work of her colleagues. He notices the way her eyes linger on his lower half and can feel the flush creeping back up into his cheeks. _

_"I haven't seen such great potential since Cashmere and Gloss came along a couple of years ago. But to work with it... well." The woman says, before holding out a pink taloned hand. "Adilia Craven pleased to meet you Finnick Odair."_

_"Er, great. Hi." Finnick says. He's feeling a lot more uncomfortable under the scrunity of this Capitol woman. Her gaze is a lot more focused than his Prep Team's, and there's something slightly menacing about the curl of her lip._

_"Well come and sit down and we'll have a chat, yes?" Adilia motions to a couple of plush, leather seats by the window._

_She doesn't however say anything about putting some clothing on._


	8. Mags (3)

"**It is the perfect weapon"- Catching Fire, Chapter 24**

**MAGS (3)**

_**Mags Flanagan, aged 70. The Capitol**_

The forest is dark and silent, a terrifying combination, as Finnick runs away from the career camp. Mags doesn't know how much time he'll have until the careers wake up, but that when they do they'll surely start after him. And Finnick can't keep going forever- with every step he takes his face gets paler and paler, and by now he's grimacing with pain. Mags begins to wonder if the mutt's spikes were poisoned.

He's still moving an hour later when the faces of the dead flash across the night sky, and Finnick gazes upwards as they appear. Sagitarria's face flashes on Mag's screen, her bright red hair blazing against the dark background. Her picture is followed by that of Blye, and Seaton fidgets uncomfortably next to Mags when it's shown. The face of Blye is followed by that of the District 5 girl who was killed by insect mutts earlier that day, and then finally the faces fade from the sky.

It's at that moment when a voice suddenly shouts out to him from Finnick's right.

"Stop!"

Mags hadn't noticed the girl up until then, and it's obvious by the way he starts that neither had District 4's second mentor, Seaton. Finnick freezes where he stands on the screen, probably realising he won't be able to outrun another tribute in his state, but hoping that maybe he will be able to intimidate them. Slowly he turns his head to the side and looks for the owner of the voice.

It's a moment before he spots her- she's crouching on the lowest branch of the nearest tree, examining him.

"District Four, I thought it was you," she says, seemingly to herself, which seems to annoy Finnick a little. He squints harder into the darkness.

"Did you know you're leaving a trail of blood?" she continues. "If we're going to be allies, you better not lead the careers to us."

"Allies?" Finnick questions, making sure he heard right.

"Well unless you want to outrun the careers on your own?" She shifts slightly on the branch, and her face enters a beam of moonlight.

It's Rupalia, the District 7 girl that Mags had noticed at the Reaping. Her dark brown hair is coming out of its thick braid, and her equally dark eyes look hard, but kind enough.

For a moment, Finnick seems to weigh up his options: keep running until either the careers catch up or he passes out from the bloody wound on his back, or trust this girl, who seems to think she can help him hide from his pursuers. He makes his decision.

"Alright ally, show me where to hide."

Dawn is breaking by the time the pair reaches the place where Rupalia has made camp. It's high up in the branches of a tree, hidden from the ground by the thick canopy of leaves. Finnick has to admit it's quite clever.

He copies her movements to climb the tree, placing his feet where she puts hers.

"You can take that branch," Rupalia says when they reach the top, pointing to a sturdy looking branch close to the one she has chosen.

The boy looks exhausted as he gratefully takes the branch, getting out his sleeping bag. He barely remembers to tie himself into the tree like Rupalia told him to. Within minutes he's asleep.

Mags first realises there's something wrong when he hasn't woken up by mid-afternoon. Rupalia is leaning over him with worry painted all over her face. She raises her hand to his forehead, and then drops it again cursing.

"He's sick," Seaton is saying. "Can we afford medicine?" He looks very flustered and the purple bags under his eyes give away his tiredness. Mags remembers that this is his first year mentoring. He's obvious not ready to lose another tribute so soon after Blye.

She shows him Finnick's sponsorship fund.

"My god," Seaton whistles. "Someone really wants that boy to win."

Rupalia keeps looking up at the sky as they select the medicine to send. She's obviously hoping for a sponsorship parcel and looks very relieved as she sees the parachute floating down.

Finnick opens his eyes as she applies the cream to the wounds on his back. He hisses in pain, and the District 7 girl shushes him. He mumbles something about a boat with white sails, before passing out again.

The remaining careers are looking for him by now. Something ugly had flashed across the District 2 boy's face when they discovered his District partner's dead body that morning, and Mags can only hope this new ally's hiding place will be good enough. Seaton is suspicious of the girl, wondering why she's helping Finnick but Mags remembers seeing her watching the career pack a couple of days ago. She's obviously got some motive, but at the moment she's the only thing keeping Finnick alive so Mag's doesn't really care what it is.

They send food for both of them so that the girl doesn't have to venture out. They can't risk anything happening to her until Finnick has recovered. The girl, Rupalia, scoffs her food quickly, before she attempts to feed Finnick. Mags wonders when the last time she ate was. Finnick is awake again, still talking feverishly about a boat, and is trying to ask Rupalia something, but she quiets him instead and hands him the cup of warm soup. She helps him drink it slowly, then and urges him to sleep.

On the third day when he wakes his cheeks are no longer so flushed and his gaze looks more focused. When Rupalia notices that he's awake she hands him a water bottle and helps him sit up.

"How are you feeling?" She asks him softly.

"A bit stiff," he replies. "How long was I out?"

Mags sighs with relief. It looks like the boy has pulled through.

"A couple of days. You had a fever," Rupalia replies. "I think it had something to do with the wound on your back, but I've bandaged it up now, and cleaned it."

"Thank you."

"Well we're allies now, right? I couldn't just let you die!" She laughs humorously. She also seems thankful that he's recovered.

"Some people would have," Finnick mutters. Rupalia ignores the comment.

Finnick then asks what they've all been thinking.

"Why did you want to be my ally? You probably could have just killed me when we met. Or left me for the careers to kill."

"Well I..." then she starts to blush.

"What? I promise I won't be offended." Finnick says, slightly amused by her reaction to his question.

"Ok. Fine. Honestly? I had been watching the career camp, and I noticed that you kept getting gifts from sponsors. I thought if I was with you I might be able to share them," she admits.

Haymitch snorts across the room.

"You haven't got anything from sponsors then?" Finnick asks curiously.

"No. I don't think anyone else has. You're not the only ones I've been watching." Rupalia tells him.

"I'm the only one with sponsor gifts?" Finnick asks, disbelieving.

Mags hadn't thought about that until now, but thinking back she doesn't remember anyone else receiving a gift either. She glances around the mentor room, and realises some faces are turned towards her with irritation.

"I think so." Rupalia confirms, adding "They sent you medicine, you know. For your fever. And the bandages for your back." She continues.

Finnick sits back, flabbergasted.

**X**

They get on well. Rupalia shows him how to climb- which branches are strong and which ones will snap under his weight. In return, he shows her how to make fishhooks, and he sets up some fishing lines for them. They find they have a similar sense of humour, and spend evenings telling jokes and stories from their Districts.

They stay hidden from what remains of the career pack.

There's been trouble there- what remains of Districts 1 and 2 split up on the day Finnick wakes up. They'd been arguing ever since he left, and finally realised they couldn't trust each other anymore. They all go separate ways, and Mags sighs in relief that they're not hunting down her tribute anymore.

Of course it doesn't last.

The acid rain begins to fall five days after Finnick and Rupalia become allies. The droplets are fat and heavy and steam rises when they hit bare skin. If they'd been on the jungle floor or under the cover of the huge leaved trees, like normal, the rain wouldn't have reached them. As it is they are out by the river, checking the fishing lines Finnick set up. They stagger back in the direction of the trees, but at the last minute they see the cave.

"Oh no," Seaton says. _Oh no indeed_, Mags thinks. It's the cave District 1's Andradite has been living in since the split of the career pack. There's no doubt in Mag's mind that this rain has been designed to draw out a fight.

They don't notice him at first, just happy that they're out of the stinging rain. Finnick is the one who sees him, a movement out of the corner of his eye- and then he's bringing his spear up and screaming at Rupalia to move, to run, to do something. The cave is too small really to wield the spear properly, and so Andradite dodges Finnick's attempt to injure him. He brings his sword down and the wood splinters. Finnick's weapon is gone.

Andradite smiles, a cold sneer.

"Found yourself a girlfriend I see, pretty boy," he says, looking at Rupalia.

And then he thrusts the sword into her stomach.

Finnick doesn't stay to watch her die. The rain has stopped as he runs out of the cave, almost bumping into the cave wall on the way out in his desperation to escape. The District 1 boy follows but Finnick is faster. He disappears into the jungle and eventually the older boy loses him amongst the trees. Mags watches Finnick as he keeps running long after his chaser has given up. He only stops in the end when he trips over a low hanging vine and falls face first onto the ground. The boy lays there dazed for a minute, trying to slow his breathing.

He tries to pull himself back up with the vine he tripped over, but it comes tumbling down from the tree canopy and falls in a coil next to him. Finnick stares at it, unblinking, before he picks it up and winds it around his shoulder. He begins to climb the tree.

Mags isn't really sure what he's doing, but she's glad he's off the jungle floor again. He's lost his weapon and so he can't afford another confrontation right now. It isn't until he's sitting on a branch high in the tree and he begins tying knots into the vine that she understands what is going on.

He's making a net.

**X**

This is how Finnick gets his trident.

It's Hayden Odair who starts it really. The cameras return to District 4 when they reach the final eight. The Odair family stand outside of their little fisherman's cottage; the older brother who looks so similar to Finnick, the little red headed sister he'd mentioned in his interview, the gruff looking father, and the mother who shared both her sons' colouring.

They talk about how far he's got. Is his District proud of him? Have they already started preparing the celebrations for his homecoming? They talk about his popularity in the Capitol. They talk about his strategy so far.

"It looked like he was making a net the last time we saw him," Caesar is saying. "What do you think he's going to use that for?"

They haven't shown Finnick on screen since he started tying vines together, and Mags in glad of it. He's still sitting in the same tree, tying knots, fingers shaking. Later, Finnick will tell her he finds knots calming. They give him something to focus on to stop his mind racing. Now however it's starting to look a little odd.

"Your boy's losing it," Chaff had said to her.

Mags isn't sure how to get through to him. She needs something. Something to snap him out of it and remind him where he is. It's only so long before the Capitol will begin to wonder where he's gone and if he's still in a tree tying knots when the camera switches back to him they might start to lose sponsors. No one wants a mad Victor after all.

"Maybe he's going spear fishing," Finnick's father says.

"Spear fishing? What's that?" Caesar Flickerman asks from his comfy Capitol studio. Of course, the Hunger Games commentators would never travel to the Districts themselves.

And so Finnick's father ends up explain the process of spear fishing to the Capitol viewers.

"I taught both my boys when they were young. I've just started teaching this one actually," he adds, ruffling the little girl's red hair.

"It's a shame he lost his spear then."

And then Hayden Odair makes a comment, a little throw away remark, but the nation latches onto it.

"Finnick always was better with a trident anyway," he says.

It's trending all over the Capitol within the hour: _Finnick Odair needs a trident. _

_#getFinnickatrident_

_#Finnickstrident_

_#Finnicksgoingspearfishing_

_#Finnicksgoingtridentfishing_

It's not really a surprise then when Hortensia Wildrock turns up at the tribute centre and corners Mags.

"I want to send Finnick Odair a trident," she says. Hortensia Wildrock, Mags is sure, is a woman who has never heard the word 'no'. She's a typical Capitol socialite- far too into her own appearance with a rich husband who has too little time for her. Normally Mags would avoid her sort like the plague. But now she's offering her tribute a lifeline.

"Are you sure? It will be ridiculously expensive," Mags warns. The cost of sending sponsor gifts to tributes rises with each day they're in the arena.

"I'll pay whatever it costs. Just make sure he gets it," says the Capitol woman.

So Mags puts through the order.

The boy has almost finished his third net when it lands on the branch next to him. For a moment he just looks at it a little stunned. He picks it up, testing the weight in his hand, trying out the balance. He looks over towards the netting he's made, then back toward his new weapon.

And then he smiles.

Later, this becomes one of the most famous pictures of the 65th Hunger Games.

(Later Finnick tells Mags it was the moment he knew he had a chance of coming home).

**X**

It doesn't take long after that.

Finnick finds the District 9 boy first. He's not expecting the net, and tries to struggle which only gets him tangled up in the vines. Finnick doesn't look as he throws the trident, but the wet sound as it enters the boy's body is amplified on the screen.

The District 11 girl he finds at the river. She's located his fishing lines and is trying to pull the fish off when he catches her in the net. She's very small, and Mags knows she's been hiding in the trees just like Finnick has. Mags also knows this isn't the first time she's taken fish from Finnick's lines. This time Finnick does watch as he pushes the trident down through her chest. His expression is blank.

On another screen, Bise and Andradite fight. The big brute from 1 is strong, but District 2's Bise is faster. He slits the bigger boy's throat with his knife.

Finnick meets the District 1 girl, Amethyst on the jungle floor. She puts up much more of a fight than the others and her blade slices Finnick's cheek. In the end she trips into the net he has strung up and the trident goes through her stomach. Mags watches as Finnick leaves her lying on the ground to die with her guts spilling out.

Then there were two.

It takes them a few hours to find each other.

Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are commenting impatiently whilst the two boys wander in circles trying to seek their opponent out. They're both eager to get it over with. On the screen, Templesmith is weighing up the strengths of the remaining two tributes: Bise is fast and cunning. He killed the brute from District 1. Finnick has his trident, the most expensive sponsor gift ever given in a Game, and he's on a killing streak.

"If Finnick Odair manages to win, he'll be the youngest Victor we've ever had!" Caesar is saying.

The Capitol audience is divided now. Both tributes have proved themselves worthy. Both tributes could make it out of the arena.

But it's Finnick that they really want.

District 4's escort, Geena comes into the mentor room at one point with news that Finnick has even more sponsors. Sending the trident almost emptied the account, even with Hortensia Wildrock's extortionate donation, but when Mags checks now the funds have filled up again. Geena has obviously been out schmoozing with the Capitol elite.

Mags sends the boy Clam Chowder with a salty District 4 seaweed bread roll. It might be his last meal, and Mags wants to remind Finnick of home. Maybe she also hopes it will motivate him to see his District again. He's so close and Mags is too attached to lose the boy at the last minute.

Something changes in Finnick's expression when he opens the parcel. The blank gaze in his eyes seems to wash away. He clutches the salted loaf to his chest with a shaking hand. He eats quickly, and when he stands again he's different. He's refreshed, reminded what he's fighting for. He's ready to win.

The boys meet at the cornucopia. Of course they do. Finnick deliberately doesn't look at the spot where Blye was killed. He deliberately doesn't look at the place he stabbed Sagitarria in the back.

"You and me, eh?" Bise says. They're circling each other. Caesar Flickerman is speculating who will make the first move.

"I honestly didn't think it would be you here at the end, pretty boy. Perhaps I misjudged you."

Finnick doesn't reply. Instead he lunges.

It's not a long fight, and Mags can't tear her eyes away. The District 2 boy is bigger and he tries to overpower Finnick, but he only has a knife. The trident's reach is longer.

The knife clips Finnick's ear as Bise lunges toward him. Finnick darts left, and in the end the trident goes through his opponent's throat.

Finnick watches the life drain from Bise's eyes as around him Claudius Templesmith's voice announces him the winner.

It's five hours after he's pulled from the arena before Mags is finally allowed to see him.

They've hooked him up to a machine; an IV is in his arm, and restraints have strapped him down to the bed. They wake him up to feed him, and then knock him out again.

"We're returning him to Beauty Base Zero," the doctors say. "President Snow's orders."

Mags and Seaton exchange a look. Haymitch's words echo in her head. _As if you don't know what'll happen to that little pretty boy if he makes it out of there. He'll be on his back within five minutes._ She tries to drown it out by asking the doctors more questions.

On day four they unhook him from the machine. She looks into Finnick Odair's eyes and the blank expression is back in place.

"I want to go home," he says, lip quivering. Mags is reminded again how young he really is.

"Ok," she says.


	9. Finnick (4)

**Finnick Odair, aged 14. The Arena**

_It's about mid-afternoon when Finnick next opens his eyes. Immediately he knows something's wrong from the way Rupalia is leaning over him with worry painted all over her face. She raises her hand to his forehead, and then drops it again cursing. However, Finnick doesn't remember what happens next as his vision becomes fuzzy and his head starts to pound, causing him to close his eyes tightly._

_The next thing he remembers is a boat, moving down the frozen river. It's a small sailing boat, with white sails, much like the boat his father owns back in District 4. The boat that he used to take Finnick and Hayden out on to show them how to catch fish, and how to mend nets. Finnick remembers watching his father's quick fingers enviously as they tied tight knots in the ropes. When he himself tried the string all seemed to loop together and cause a messy heap at his feet. It was this that caused him to try again and again determinedly until his fingers bled. Night after night, sitting on the porch steps until he could get it right. He remembers the day he makes his first proper net; remembers bringing it to his father proudly, smiling with his gap teeth. He remembers the way his father held it up to his eyes closely, examining it, before deeming it a worthy net, and placing it with the others. That moment, his father's approval, made all the other failed attempts worth it. He didn't even care that Hayden had been making useable nets for three years by then, and looked at Finnick with disdain when his father praised him. Hayden hadn't been praised on his first net._

_And as all these memories run through his head, and as he watches the boat with the white sails, it suddenly occurs to him how strange it is that the boat is drifting down the frozen river, solid with ice. So he calls Rupalia, to ask if she can see it too. She appears above his head still with the same worried expression on his face, and instead of answering his question she hands him a cup of warm soup, and urges him to sleep._

_As she disappears again, he gazes up through the branches above his head to the sky and sees the stars. He wonders if they're real or perhaps just projected up onto the giant screen? And it's about then that he begins to confuse his reality with his dreams; both seem to spin together, leaving a trail of starlight to dance upon the insides of his eyelids._


	10. Hayden (2)

"**I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking."- Mockingjay, Chapter 11**

**HAYDEN (2)**

_**Hayden Odair, aged 17. District 4**_

_How do you pick up the threads of an old life?_

It's not Hayden's brother who comes home. The person who steps off the train at District 4 is utterly unrecognisable from the Finnick Odair that Hayden knows. The Finnick Odair that Hayden knows was the boy who brashly volunteered for the Hunger Games at fourteen. The boy who flirted his way through Caesar Flickerman's interviews and won the love of the Capitol citizens. But this boy here shows no signs of Hayden's brother's confidence. Instead he seems to shrink under the welcoming cheers of District 4 as he steps down onto the platform, and although he is smiling, it's the kind that doesn't reach his eyes, not the blinding cheeky grins of the Finnick of old. His hair seems flat, and his clothes a little crumpled, as though he's slept in them overnight.

His parents don't seem to notice. Hayden's mother rushes at her son the moment he is within arm's reach, the rest of the family not far behind. Obediently, Hayden steps up as well to greet his brother but as he gets closer he sees the blank expression in Finnick's eyes and realises that he's not seeing them at all.

He doesn't see them as they lead him away from the station and away to Victor's Cove. They had moved all their stuff that morning and everyone is excited to see what Finnick thinks of the new place. But he doesn't even react as the take him up the front steps. He still doesn't see them as he's given the grand tour which Hayden thinks is a tragedy as their new house in Victor's Cove is amazing. The carpets are soft, the rooms are spacious and it even has those amazing showers from the Capitol that tributes always talk about in their interviews- the ones with all the different settings. For the first time ever, Hayden has his own room. His own space that he doesn't have to share with his little brother. It's huge and when he moved into it Hayden realised he doesn't have enough stuff to fill it up with at all. His mind drifts to the Tuesday market and he wonders if there are any nik-naks there that he could buy to make it more homely. It's not like they have to worry about money anymore.

Now Finnick has won the Hunger Games he has more than enough money for the whole family to live on for the rest of his life. Hayden and his father won't need to fish anymore. Maybe he could go back to school, learn something useful. Maybe he could even learn enough to become something else- not everyone in the District is a fisherman. There were still the occasional doctor, dentist and council member. Maybe Hayden could train to be someone like that now with all his free time, do something useful with his life.

Life is suddenly full of possibilities again.

But Finnick is obviously not seeing that either.

In fact, the only think he does seem to notice is when his old lady mentor, Mags, appears in their new shiny kitchen. She ruffles his bronze curls and says something to his that Hayden doesn't quite catch, but it makes the corners of Finnick's lips twitch which is a relief. Perhaps he's still in their somewhere.

Hours later they're still all hovering around Finnick, and Hayden feels his patience waning.

Their mother keeps bubbling over with emotion- whether it's happiness or concern Hayden can't tell- every time Finnick looks at her. Sammy keeps asking him questions about the Capitol, which Finnick does answer. He tells them about the funny people and all the fancy buildings and rich food. Their father keeps repeating over and over again how proud he is of his son.

"You've brought pride to your family, to your District. There is no greater honour. We're so proud of you."

_Proud of what?_ Hayden wants to ask. He's a murderer. His little brother is a cold-blooded murderer and yet here he is being celebrated. The anger bubbles underneath his skin as he wants to remind his father of the several hours he disappeared in his boat when Finnick brought his spear down into the heart of that girl from District 10. Or remind his mother of the way she flinched when her son stabbed the District 2 girl in the back when he was kissing her.

He's fed up of all the fuss they're making over Finnick, the fuss they've all been making- the whole District, the whole world even- ever since he _volunteered_ to go and kill children.

Most of all he's fed up of the fake new Finnick that's returned from the Capitol. He doesn't smile like the proper Finnick and he doesn't make the stupid little jokes. Instead he acts like a hollow shell of the person he used to be. A person on auto pilot. And yet they still all fawn over him. It's as though he's given up on being interesting now that he's finally got everything he's ever wanted. Hayden wants to scream and shout at him. He wants him to wake up from the weird zombie state he's pretending to be in and act happy that he's escaped from the fisherman's life he never wanted.

But Finnick stays blank and fake and Hayden wishes he knew how to put aside the bitterness and jealously that he's always felt toward his brilliant little brother, especially when it's obvious the cost of fame and fortune was everything else.

XXX

It's a little bit awkward for the first few days. His parents are overbearing, Sammy is quiet, and everyone is tired because Finnick keeps waking them up with his nightmares. Hayden is starting to realise that having nothing to do all day is not as fun as he first thought it might be. He's almost reached the stage where he's about to head back down to the school and see what courses he can enrol in when his father suggests they take the boat out fishing.

Finnick doesn't really react. He hasn't really reacted at all since he's come home. He does what his parents suggest, he eats the food they put in front of him, but there's something missing. He spends a lot of time down on the beach- the private Victor's beach- sitting alone on the dunes, staring out at the waves. He sits there for hours, alone, looking sombre. This fishing trip is a blatant attempt by their father to try and get Finnick to interact with them again. Hayden's not convinced it will work, but their father looks pleased with himself anyway when Finnick shrugs his consent and follows them down to the harbour.

Their fishing boat is still moored down in the harbour bay near South Beach, near where they used to live. They ought to move it around to the pontoon where the other Victor's families keep their boats, but Tomas Odair hasn't got around to it yet. Still, it's not a long walk from Victor's Cove, although they have to walk through District Four's market place. Hayden can feel the eyes on them as soon as they leave the house. The pricking feeling of his skin increases in volume as it gradually gets worse as they encounter more and more people. It makes him want to shrink inside himself. The weight of their stares makes him want to squirm and hide, even though he knows he's not the subject of their attention. Looking to his brother, he can see Finnick is still just as unresponsive as he's been the last few days. He doesn't even seem to notice the people gawking. Hayden can't help thinking, bitterly, that the old Finnick would have lapped it all up, loving the attention. He wonders if that Finnick will ever return.

The boat is a relic of their old life, the life they used to live before his brother went and murdered a bunch of children. It's a life that Hayden had never thought he would miss, but the second he sees the patchwork sails and flaking paint on the bow he can't deny the pang of homesickness that hits him square in the chest. Homesick for the little house where he used to sit on the porch with his brother and mend nets. Homesick for the beach where he used to make driftwood fires with his friends. Even homesick for the days he spent fishing with his father and uncle instead of going to school. He feels a rush of something that he hasn't felt for a long time as he removes the coverings and unfurls the sail from where it has been folded up along the boom. It takes him a moment to realise it's excitement he's feeling.

Their father takes the tiller and the main sail. Hayden sets himself up with the jib sail at the front and Finnick raises the centre board. And then they're sailing out of the harbour and into the ocean and the salty waves are lapping up against the side of the boat, and Hayden is leaning out as the wind picks up, and he feels… free. The wind is in his hair and the salt spray hits his lips and Hayden realises there's nothing better than sailing. Away from the District and the Peacekeepers and their responsibilities. When you're out at sea the only things you need to think about is what tack you're on and whether the tell tales on the sail are flaring in the right direction.

When they're out far enough, their father reaches for the fishing nets, which is when Finnick suddenly reacts. He's suddenly hunching over and he's breathing fast and his hands are covering his face.

"Breathe, Finn," their father says. He says it like a mantra, repeating it again and again, letting go of the main sail sheet and the tiller to move over to his youngest son. Hayden grabs them both before the sail can start flapping wildly, and observes from a distance.

It's the first time Finnick's face has shown anything that remotely resembles as expression since he returned. Since he returned different. Hayden glances at the pile of netting in the bottom of the boat, and wonders if Finnick is also imagining the tributes he had killed getting tangled up in his net on the jungle floor. Hayden tries to repress a shudder as he remembers the wet sound the trident had made as it had impaled the District 9 boy. He tries to forget watching the guts of the District 1 girl spill onto the ground where Finnick had opened her up with his trident. He tries to forget the cool expression he had seen on his little brother's face as he had murdered a string of children.

His mother had covered Sammy's eyes when it had happened, and Hayden wished she had covered his too. It was chilling, and he can't help searching his brother's face for signs of it when he's not paying attention. He watches as his brother's shaking fingers land on his cheek, in just the place where the District 1 girl's blade sliced him, although there is no scar. _Huh_, Hayden thinks, _that's weird_.

So it looks like they're not fishing today then. It hardly matters as it seems Victors and their families are exempt from the fishing quotas that overwhelm the rest of the District. Finnick's freak out doesn't last long, and so Hayden allows himself to relax and lose himself to the feeling of wet rope in his hands and choppy waves beneath. They don't talk much, although they do exchange some small talk and gossip about people they know. People from the life they've left behind. It makes Hayden suddenly realise he hasn't seen his friends in almost a week and so when they moor the boat again a couple of hours later, he decides to head to South Beach. He asks if Finnick wants to come, but his brother slopes off back to Victor's Cove instead.

They're all there of course, as he expected. Leila, and Joe, and _Mab_. He watches as the wind picks up the ends of Mab's pale blond hair and wonders how he could have stayed away for so long. They call out to him as he walks down the sands towards them, and he rejoices in the wash of familiarity that falls over him. This is where he belongs. Not in the giant, perfect house in Victor's Cove with all his relatives hovering around his mentally disturbed brother, but out here on the beach, and earlier out on the waves.

He sits down next to Mab on the sand, and she smiles at him and she's beautiful and Hayden has missed her more than he'd realised. And then she opens her mouth to speak, and-

"How's Finnick?" Mab says, and the bitter feeling he's been carrying in his stomach falls right back into place.


	11. Finnick (5)

**Finnick Odair, aged 14. District 4**

_It's a week before Valeria Alves comes to see him. She's even more beautiful than he remembers- curly long, brown hair and big brown eyes and freckles. And nothing added- no sparkly gems embedded in her skin, no gold tattoos across her cheekbones, no brightly coloured talons for finger nails. Just her, Valeria. Just a girl, a beautiful girl who hasn't been tainted by the Capitol. Just the sight of her reminds Finnick of 'before'. 'Before', when he was just a fisherman's son. 'Before' when everything was so much simpler._

_She greets him tentatively, obviously not sure whether things are different now he's gone off to the Capitol and found his way home again. Is she expecting him to be different now? More confident? More traumatised? She stares appreciatively around at his new house- the walls are white and the ceilings are high and Finnick hates it more than he ever thought he would. It doesn't feel like home, and in this new world- the 'After' world, where everything is new and unfamiliar- Finnick longs for anything that will remind him of how everything used to be. _

"_How are you, Finnick?" She asks after a time. It's what everyone wants to know. The doctors in the Capitol kept asking him as they poked and prodded at his body. Caesar Flickerman wanted to know when he interviewed Finnick on his last day in the Capitol. It's the only thing his family seems to be able to say to him these days. How is he? Finnick has never been less sure of the answer to that question, so he tells her what she wants to hear._

"_I'm fine," he says._

_For a while they talk about the Capitol, and Finnick tells her all about the food and the showers and the buildings and the strange fashions. He doesn't mind talking about this. This is easy. He's good at talking about things like this. They don't mention the Games- it remains and unspoken rule between them not to bring it up._

"_I missed you," she whispers, pushing herself closer to him, obviously waiting for him to make the final move. And he does, moving his hand into her hair and pulling her head toward his._

_For a moment, everything is perfect. Valeria's lips move against his- her mouth is warm and wet and familiar and Finnick forgets everything else and focuses only on the way it feels to be kissing her in this moment. And then suddenly he's not there anymore, and it's not Valeria he's kissing, and as he pushes her away he watches the shock flicker across her face as she feels the knife in her back. Blood begins to trickle out of the corner of her mouth and then suddenly it's all over his hands and everything is red, red, red, and it's Sagitarria's eyes staring blankly back at him, dead, dead, dead._

"_Finnick? Finnick?" She's shaking his shoulder and that's when he realises that he's hunched over and his head is in his bloody palms and his breaths are coming fast and heavy. He tries to slow them, remembering what Mags said about counting to three before breathing out again._

"_Are you OK?" Valeria is saying. Valeria with her big brown eyes, and not Sagitarria's glassy dead stare. Because Sagitarria couldn't possibly be here, because Finnick killed her. He shoved his knife in her back and now's she's dead._

_Finnick tried to answer her, but he can't form the words. She reads it in his face anyway._

"_I'm sorry," she says later. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."_

_When she leaves, they both understand that she's not coming back. She's another thing the Games have taken from him._


	12. Mags (4)

"If I'm going to cry, now is the time. By morning, I'll be able to wash all the damage done by the tears from my face. But no tears come. I'm too tired or too numb to cry. The only thing I feel is a desire to be somewhere else"- The Hunger Games, Chapter 4

MAGS (4)

_Mags Flanagan, aged 71. Victory Tour_

Finnick comes back to them slowly.

For weeks all Mags can see when she looks at him is the same empty eyes and numb features that he had turned on her in the Capitol hospital. He's quiet where before he was talkative, and he's content to simply follow Mags around when she visits him, or to just stare into space. Mags has seen plenty of Victors before so it's not the first time she's seen something like this happen, but there's something about this boy, so young, so similar to herself, that resonates with her and so she finds herself worrying. She must be getting old.

The other Victors try to reassure her.

"He just needs some time," Coral tells her at their monthly gathering. "We all needed time to adjust, and it must be especially hard considering he's still just a child really. The poor boy."

The others had all chimed in similarly, and urged Mags to bring him along to dinner next month.

"You know how much it helps to have other people around who understand," Adrian had said when Mags had tried to argue the boy wasn't ready for them all yet. "Besides, that boy is going to need all the support he can get considering what will happen to him. Does he know yet?"

Of course he didn't. Mags couldn't tell the boy. She'd had many unpleasant conversations in her life, but telling a fourteen year old boy that the Capitol would want to use his body for their own selfish sexual pleasure was something she couldn't even find the words for. Besides, now was not the time for that. He was still getting over the whole murder and death issue, she didn't need to add to his already full plate. It might not even happen so why get him all worried about it now?

Triton had looked at her sadly when she had voiced that last part. "Don't be delusional, Magsy. That boy's card is definitely marked."

But she ignores them all, and keeps quiet.

She goes to see him as often as she can. Sometimes they talk, but mostly they are quiet. Mags solves the problem of long silent stretches by teaching the boy some new knots- old knots that Mags had been taught by her father as a girl. It's good to focus on something different. Knots keep your mind busy and away from everything else that's going on inside your head. For a few hours you're thinking about the rope and your fingers and you can forget. That's good. Besides, knots are familiar when you're from District Four. And familiar can be just what you need when everything else in your world has changed.

The other Victors begin to join in. Adrian starts it, one day inviting Finnick into his garden. Mags finds them a couple of hours later, weeding his vegetable patch and pruning flower bushes. By the next week Finnick has started to grow his own potato and runner bean plants. Seaton takes him out surfing at the Victor's Cove private beach, Kai gets him to start practising yoga, and Mags even catches him doing a jigsaw one day over at Coral's house.

And as the weeks pass the life began to creep back into Finnick Odair's eyes again. The silence between them lessens and the tension in Mag's heart began to lift. And then finally, about six weeks after Finnick Odair wins the 65th Hunger Games, Marion, District 4's oldest Victor, finally manages to make the boy laugh. That's when she knows he's coming back to them.

XXX

When Mags had won the Hunger Games they had demanded she produce a talent. Something that the Capitol could talk about and turn her into because she was their Victor and they owned her. It had seemed stupid. Find a talent, some hobby, to play at whilst the rest of the District were hard at work. As if Mags wasn't a part of her District family anymore. (She wasn't. They had separated her and she had become something else). Marion wouldn't let her be stubborn and refuse.

"Never refuse the Capitol," he had taught her. It only took her a lifetime to see what he meant.

So in the end she had settled on something she already knew. Knitting was basically knots and nets and it was useful. She could give away the things she knitted to help people who needed it much more than she did it.

Finnick Odair finds it much harder to choose a 'talent'. Part of it is he doesn't want to copy someone else's talent. There are a lot more Victors now than there had been when Mags had won her games. As a result there are a lot more 'talents'. Adrian gardens. Triton bakes. Thalassa sails. Seaton surfs.

There's also another obstacle.

"I want it to be something completely new that I've never done before. I don't want it to be something else they can take away from me," Finnick says.

The problem is that whatever Finnick Odair does is going to be a big deal because he's Finnick Odair. Mags doesn't push it. She decides to let it come to him on its own. However, she is surprised when he finally settles on something.

"Poetry?" She asks, double checking he had indeed just told her his talent is going to be poetry.

"Yes," Finnick smiles. "It's perfect."

"Do you even know how to write poems?" Mags asks.

"It's easy. Just write a load of nonsense and then everyone tried to guess what it means. They all think they know me, that they're looking into my soul or some rubbish like that but actually it doesn't mean anything. I don't want to give them anything." Finnick says.

"Besides, I've already written one," he adds and thrusts a scrap of paper at her.

'_The Monster'_ it's entitled.

_It's form was monstrous, cloaked in blackness of night_

_Like the childhood nightmare that still haunted your sleep_

_My terror was tormented by the knowledge of right_

_And the debt left to pay left me shaking and week._

_The creature gnashed its terrible teeth with want_

_Recallling echos of a time, once ago, when I_

_Missed the clarity that should have been just in front_

_Of the aching sockets of my now blind eyes._

_Oh! To think once that I should be so wretched now_

_Cowering away from that which should be mine._

_The miserableness of my nature showed how_

_My fragile spirit belonged to this long foretold sign._

_The great beast opened its jaws, and swallowed me whole_

'_Till my air ran black and my flailing limbs felt calm._

_A spiralling tranquillity took hold of my soul_

_And lifted all my fears with its trembling palm._

"And this means nothing to you?" Mags says. To her it reeks of guilt.

"What could it mean?" Finnick shrugs off. He's pleased with himself.

"Ok," Mags says.

"Ok," Finnick says.

"Maybe you should write something a bit happier next time though." Mags tells him.

Geena, their District escort, seems to think that Finnick's new 'talent' is an amazing idea. To her, it's all very exciting- a poor district boy, thrust in the limelight suddenly, penning his deep thoughts and sharing them with his new platform. She sets him up with a big Capitol photoshoot, in which the photo will be splashed onto the front cover of one of the leading Capitol holozines.

Finnick's prep team arrives bright and early and bustle their way into Finnick's new kitchen. Mags recognises the three Capitolites as the same people who had been working on District Four's tributes for years now. They must have been the same three that had worked on Finnick during his games. However, the stylist following behind is new. She has long brown ringlets, held back by some sort of orange headpiece. Her boots are the same orange shade, with tall spiky heels and she appears to be dressed in a long knotted overcoat reminiscent, Mags thinks, of a net.

"I thought that Adilia Craven was his stylist?" Mags asks one of the prep team, a man with purple feathery hair who Mags thinks is called Pliny, as he rushes past with a box of brushes and lotions.

"Metella's the best," Pliny gushes, slowing to talk to her. "The president personally requested she work on Finnick."

Mags doesn't like the sound of this, but she hopes it doesn't show on her face. The president interfering with her boy's stylist can't possibly be a good sign.

As the new stylist gets to work the tight feeling in Mag's throat diminishes a little. Metella is far less leery than Adilia had ever been, and instead seems to view Finnick as an extension of her 'art'. Mags approves of the way she asks Finnick about his preferred colours and styles, every so often writing something down in a little fluffy notebook. They end up dressing the boy in a simple loose fitting shirt and a pair of shorts.

"A simple district boy," Metella declares with such obvious satisfaction that Mags can't find it in her to point out that the Capitol cut of the clothes is far from anything that citizens of District Four would find themselves wearing.

XXX

The Victory Tour is gruelling.

They start, of course, in District 4. There are speeches and interviews and suddenly there's food and before Mags can even draw breath, Finnick is shaking the major's hand and they are heading out of the station on a tribute train.

"That wasn't so bad," Finnick remarks as the train turns the last corner out of District Four and the view of the ocean disappears from sight.

"Day One, boy," Mags reminds him cynically.

It turns out, of course, that she is right. By day five Finnick is beginning to waver. By day six he's beginning to disappear again. The skinny, dirty, children of the outer Districts were always difficult to see. The grim faces of their citizens didn't help, and neither did the fact that Finnick seemed to have killed a tribute from half of the stops (9, 10, 11). But it's when they reach District Seven that Mags can really see the boy is struggling.

He stands on the stage of District Seven's justice building, staring unblinkingly at the holo of the female tribute, Rupalia, his ally for a time. He recites the speech he'd been handed on the drive from the station- all about the generosity of the Capitol and his luck in the games. For a moment Mags thinks he might say something else, something about the girl who had saved his life and nursed him back to health in the arena. However, he remains silent, and simply heads back off the stage and to the feast held in his honour. What a good little Victor, Mags thinks sourly.

Later, he shakes another major's hand and reboards the train with Mags, his mentor, Geena, his escort, and all the prep team. It's not until after dinner, and he's back in his room on the train that Mags hears him crying. She stops to listen outside the door for a moment, before she moves inside the room and sits down next to him on the bed. She pulls the boy's face into her shoulder and just lets him weep. There's nothing she can say to make it better, and there's nothing she wants to say, but she hopes he's comforted by her presence all the same. When he's finished she wipes the tears from his cheeks and leads him into the kitchen to get him a glass of water.

The carriage is empty. Everyone else has probably gone to bed by now. No one had pulled the blinds, however, and the world outside the train window is pitch black. Somehow it's comforting.

Mags and Finnick lean against the counter near the sink and he drinks.

"They don't care, do they? The Capitol." Finnick asks suddenly. "About the children that die. It's just a game to them isn't it?"

Mags sighs. She's not sure what to tell the boy. He's so young and already so cynical. It's not right. It's not fair.

After a moment, she settles on the truth.

"Sometimes it's easier for people not to notice bad things that are happening." Mags says simply. "They don't want to feel responsible for making a change."

"But they are responsible," Finnick insists. "How can they just stand by and watch and not do anything?

All Mags can do in response is shake her head sadly.

"Well I'm going to do it," Finnick declares. "I'm going to tell them its wrong. I'm going to make them change."

Mags feels her heart suddenly stutter in her chest.

"No!" she says, grabbing his tanned arm tightly. "No Finnick. You must never do that. You must never disagree with the Capitol."

It disgusts her to teach him this lesson- this rule that she's stuck to for most of her life. She wants to tell him his instincts are completely right. He _should_ fight back. But she can't see any other way for it to be. Mags is a Victor, and the one thing that Victors do best is self preservation. And this boy especially needs to learn this lesson now. It's much better to accept that now that no matter what you do, the Capitol will always win.

The look he gives her is slightly hurt, but then there's something that looks like understanding in his features.

"The Game doesn't stop does it?" he says slowly. "I have to become the person they think I am?"

_I hope you're ready,_ Mags thinks.

Finnick finishes drinking his water silently for a few minutes. The noise is loud and he sets his glass down next to the sink. Rattling, the train carriage turns a corner, and lights from a distant town draw strange patterns on the kitchen counters. Finnick traces the edge of a long shadow with his index finger. Mags can still see the tear tracks on his cheeks. Then there's almost a hint of a smile on his face as he spies a glass bowl on one of the work surfaces full of little white lumps.

"Sugar cubes," Finnick says, quietly. "Marion likes them in his coffee."

"Well I think they taste better on their own," Mags replies, picking one up and popping it into her mouth. Marion had been her mentor once and, just like Finnick, just like all the District Four Victors, he had introduced Mags to the simple joy of a sugar cube.

Mags offers the bowl to Finnick, and he takes one in his long tanned fingers.

"Whenever you're feeling sad boy, sometimes it helps to find yourself something sweet."

Finnick's eyes are still a little red but she thinks he's going to be ok.

XXX

They make it to the Capitol.

The platform is swarming with people when they arrive and it takes ages to fight their way off the train, through the crowds, to their waiting car. Everyone wants to see the boy, _their_ Victor, to touch him, to connect with him in some way.

"Finnick," they shout. "Finnick, over here!"

He looks a little overwhelmed, but still he waves and smiles which only makes them scream for him louder. This is the Game, Mags knows. This will always be the Game.

When they finally reach the tribute centre, his prep team fuss over him like usual.

"Aren't you so excited?" One of them, Lesbia, says cooingly as she applies a smoky colour to his top eye-lid. "Your first party!"

"_Everyone_ is going to be there," a second, Pliny joins in, fluffling at Finnick's hair. He launches into recalling a list of numerous celebrities that were rumoured to be attending tonight's Victory Party.

They dress him in skin tight striped trousers and a shirt made out of the similar net-like material that seems to be the current craze in the Capitol. Mags can tell the boy is not entirely comfortable in the outfit but he doesn't say anything.

They get ready to leave, Geena appearing at the last minute before they step into the waiting car, wearing a bright red dress made out of the same net material as Finnick's shirt. It flares out behind her, pooling on the ground to show off a ridiculously high pair of heels in the same crimson shade. She talks non-stop on the drive to the presidential palace and Mag's wishes there was way to shut her up.

"Are you nervous?" she whispers to the boy as the walk up the drive toward the mansion house where the party is in full swing already.

He smiles at her encouragingly and shakes his head in response. "This is what I'm good at," he whispers back.

And he is. The boy is charming and sweet and funny. He makes rich Capitol businessmen laugh, he dances with several Capitol women that ask him, and even tries to convince Mags to take a spin with him around the floor. They all swoon over him.

"I just knew you were going to win," they all say. "Right from the beginning."

"You were so clever with those nets. Do you really learn to fish like that in District 4?"

"How do you like the Capitol? Isn't everything so wonderful and civilised here?"

They love him here, and Finnick plays the role so well. It's almost hard to believe this is the same boy that cried on her shoulder only the other night.

Mags wonders how long he has before they want more of him.


	13. Finnick (6)

**Finnick Odair, aged 15. District 4.**

_Unlike everyone else, Marion doesn't try to make Finnick talk about his problems, which he appreciates._

_Actually they don't really talk at all when Finnick is with the elderly Victor. They mostly sit in a companionable silence, just enjoying not being alone._

_The District 4 Victors are like their own little family, Finnick is finding- always looking out for each other and supporting one another. Being part of a community that understands is a comfort that Finnick didn't realise he needed until he was inducted into it. He spends his days mostly splitting his time between one Victor or another, taking part in activities he never would have even considered doing before._

_Everything was different before. It seems like a lifetime ago that he was that frustrated little boy who couldn't cope with the idea of becoming a fisherman. The simplicity of fishing seems much more appealing to him now._

_Of course Mags is his favourite Victor- she'll always be his mentor and general guru on how to be a Victor, but Finnick finds he enjoys Marion's quiet contemplation just as much as surfing with Seaton, or gardening with Adrian. They spend many hours sitting together in his garden, overlooking the sea._

_Marion introduces Finnick to hot drinks as well. He has a wide selection of tea leaves, herbal drinks and coffee beans. On the train to the Capitol Finnick had discovered coffee for the first time, although had been put off by its dark bitter taste. The way Marion makes it though tastes much better, and Finnick almost can't believe it's the same drink._

"_Ah, the secret my boy is that you have to sweeten it up a bit," the old man says when Finnick questions him. Marion then presents Finnick with a little glass bowl full of small white cubes, gesturing for him to pick one up._

_Finnick turns the little lump over in his palm, intrigued by its rough texture._

"_Try that then, my boy," Marion encourages, and drops one of the white cubes in his own mug of coffee as if to demonstrate. He swirls his spoon around in a satisfying 'clink'._

"_What is it?" Finnick asks. It's course between his fingers. He tentatively drops the white cube into his drink, stirs it a few times, and then takes a sip. It's sweet and Finnick finds himself now enjoying the flavour of the brown liquid much more._

"_They call it 'sugar' in the Capitol", Marion is saying. "They use it in everything there. I think they even give it to the horses sometimes."_

_Lucky horses, Finnick thinks._

For some reason it seemed important to me to clarify that I don't actually take sugar in my own coffee, but I noticed that in Mockingjay Finnick does. Here's an imagining where that might have come from.


	14. Mags (5)

**"President snow used to sell me. My body that is."- Mockingjay, Chapter 12**

**MAGS (5)**

**_Mags Flanagan, aged 72. District 4/The Capitol_**

And life goes on.

His family adjust to Victor's cove. Tomas Odair and his eldest son still go out fishing on their little sail-boat, but they give away their catch to their old neighbours and friends, being now exempt from the fishing quotas that plague the rest of District Four's fishing families. Instead they buy their fish (perhaps the very ones they themselves caught) from different sellers up and down the docks. And not only fish. They bring back crab and cockles and whelks, and sit on the front step to eat them.

Finnick's mother, Kay, helps in different ways. When she first started buying extravagant art pieces and unnecessary clothing from the dockyard marketplace Mags had though she was starting to lose sight of herself. However, as the pieces begin to stack up in one of the unused spare bedrooms, Mags starts to realise her angle and begins accompanying her as she trawls the market stalls.

Envelopes begin arriving. All written on the same familiar, rose scented paper Mags had seen a thousand times. They are all invitations to parties, dinners, openings, premieres. Finnick doesn't even think of saying no- whether this is down to his desire to attend these events or the little chat Mags had had with him about refusing the Capitol, she's not sure. Instead she walks him to the station each month, slipping a few sugar cubes into his coat pocket as she hugs him goodbye.

Whilst he's away she watches him when he appears on the holo, dressed in wild Capitol outfits, tight against his tanned skin. He's always surrounded by wealthy Capitolites, famous actresses and models and designers. He's always smiling in the footage. Is it real? Does it touch his eyes?

His sea green eyes. When he comes back she always searches those eyes for signs, but so far she hasn't seen it. It hasn't started yet.

When he's home, she takes him along to the weekly Victors' dinners. They all gather at Marions's house. Triton bakes a cake, or a pie or a pudding, and they take it in turns to cook. Coral and Thalassa have taken to fussing over the boy when he turns up, and he, for his part, turns on the charm giving the two women flirty comments and cheeky smiles. He even manages to make Adrian smile, which is a nice change from his normal nonstop stream of complaints.

The nightmares become fewer and farer between. The boy no longer spends hours sitting out alone on the sand dunes staring at the sea. Instead, Mags thinks he might even be going to visit his old friends from time to time.

Finnick is settling into him life as a Victor.

XXX

"He had another argument with his brother this morning," Kay Odair is telling her as they watch Finnick sitting out on the backstep, tying knots in an old net.

The rest of the family is out- the little girl, Sammy, at school, and Finnick's father and brother out on the fishing boat presumably.

Mags sips the weak cup of tea that Finnick's mother had made for her when she arrived, and tries to work out how she ended up mentoring not only Finnick, but his entire family as well. She's never been particularly good at comforting words and false smiles, but doubts that they will be needed here in any case. Kay Odair isn't a stupid woman, and what she's really asking Mags to do is to confirm what she already knows.

"Well, as you know, it's not only the Victor who needs time to adjust to all the changes," Mags says simply.

A gentle breeze outside ruffles Finnick's bronze curls, and he angles his face down a little to see the net he's working on better. His shirt sticks to his sweaty back, the sun blazing down over his long brown body.

"Hayden's jealous. Seeing Finn on the holo all the time…" Finnick's mother is talking again. "Not that they've ever got on _well. _But I suppose I just hoped that Hayden might be there for his brother a bit more. You know, considering everything. But Hayden seems to have got it in his head that Finnick is living a wild life of fun and parties…"

She breaks off, shooting at intense look at Mags. "It's not like that though is it?" She poses the question as a statement. "Because I know my son. He's a sweet boy really, not matter what sort of act he's put on this year. A sweet, gentle boy. This isn't him really. He doesn't choose this, does he?"

She's asking for the truth but Mags can't give it to her. Or at least not in so many words. She's conscious of the bugs that are inevitably placed all over this house. It would be safer not to say anything.

She shakes her head. Kay sucks in a breath but there's no surprise in her face.

"Is this normal? For new victors I mean?" Kay whispers. Perhaps the bugs haven't gone unnoticed then. Or perhaps it's just that Kay is oddly perceptive.

"Sometimes," Mags said. Kay obviously reads between the lines of that one. She glances over at her son, still tying knots outside. Her hand trembles a little as she raises her mug to her lips to take a mouthful of milky liquid.

"Is he safe?"

"For now."

No one is safe in the Capitol. Especially not victors.

XXX

The 66th Hunger Games comes and goes.

Finnick looks nervous as his prep team come and fit him into his Reaping Day outfit. It's some sort of metallic looking jumpsuit that looks ridiculous everywhere outside of the Capitol but the boy doesn't protest as they paint him into it. They watch from inside the Justice Building as all of the children in District 4 file into the square, penned into their age groups.

As they walk out on the stage, Mags offers Finnick her arm, gesturing at him as if it's to help her walk. The boy smiles at her ploy but still accepts the comfort she's offering. They follow the other Victors slowly, spreading out across the back of the stage, behind their escort, Geena who this year is wearing a puffy purple monstrosity. Mags sees Finnick's brother Hayden standing at the back of the square with the oldest boys. This is his last year in the reaping pool, and Mags wonders if it's a relief for him, or whether Finnick's survival last year has spurred him on.

He doesn't volunteer.

Adrian and Coral go to mentor this year. Mags had half been expecting to see an envelope with Finnick's name on, summoning him to the Games, but it never comes. Perhaps the president feels the boy is too young to mentor just yet. Maybe he's just saving his cards.

(District Four's tributes don't make it far past the bloodbath. They never do the year after a win.)

Instead, the party invitations keep arriving and Mag's fear keeps growing. But in the end she knows when it will happen.

A few months after the 66th Hunger Games, an envelope reveals plans of the extravagant

party being thrown for Finnick Odair's sixteenth birthday in the Capitol.

It's not the first time the Capitol has celebrated a Victor's birthday, but it's not common either. It's the sort of event that is only planned for the most famous and beloved Victors, and it's often only planned to demonstrate the strength of the Capitol and the futility of refusal. Quite simply this is a power play. Mags understands this at once.

The boy realises something is different about this envelope when Mags insists on accompanying him to the Capitol.

He gives her an inquisitive look as she boards the train next to him.

"Did you get an invitation too?" the boy asks.

"Yes," she lies. She should tell him. She can't tell him. She can't find the words.

Instead, they sit in comfortable companionship together as the train leaves the platform and speeds them away to the one place they can never escape.

When they arrive the next day, its starting to become dark. They are ushered quickly to the Tribute Centre, a Victor's home in the Capitol. His prep team gets to work almost at once, whisking Finnick away and complaining about how late they are and how little time they have to prepare him. If anyone is surprised to see Mags they don't mention it. She sits in the kitchen area of District Four's floor, trying to work out what to do.

It's several hours before he reappears, dressed in a glittering skin-tight outfit, and she's still not sure what the right answer is. The only thing she's been able to decide on is that she needs to say _something_.

She opens her mouth to start but still nothing comes out. Of course nothing comes out. What is there that she can possibly say to make this alright?

The boy is talking to her about something his stylist, Metella, said. She looks at him again. His face is animated, mouth curving as he talks about something amusing. He has a streak of red glitter running along his cheekbone, curling behind his eye. Sixteen. Only sixteen. His jaw is a little tighter than when they first met, his shoulders a little broader, his legs a little longer. But it's still so young. Mags can remember being sixteen, before her own games. So naive, so little comprehension of the world and her place in it, no matter how grown-up she had felt then.

The boy falters a little in his tale, obviously realising something is wrong. He's just as perceptive as his mother.

"What is it Mags?" he asks. She tells him to sit down at the kitchen table with her. When words finally leave her mouth they're not what either of them are expecting her to say.

"I'm not coming to the party tonight," Mags says to the boy.

He raises a newly plucked eyebrow at that, obviously wondering why she's bothered making to journey to the Capitol for an event she's not planning to attend, but he gives her space to continue.

"Do you remember what I said to you on your Victory Tour, boy?"

She's thinking back to the conversation the two of them had had late at night on the train as the horror of the Games had finally began to sink in.

"You told me that I have to become the person that they think I am?" Finnick offers. He's right, that is what they had discussed but that's not exactly the point Mags meant to make.

"That's part of it boy, but I believe the exact words I said were that you must never disagree with the Capitol. It's a lesson that every Victor learns at one time or another, and I think for you that time is going to be tonight."

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes as he tries to understand. He's not going to get there by himself. _Too young. _Mags elaborates for him.

"The president is probably going to ask you to do something tonight. Something that is requested of a lot of Victors. Something that is… something awful that he has no right to ask of you."

She feels disgusted with herself, saying these things to him. She should fight back. She wants to shout and scream and rage all the way to the President's Palace until she's right in his face telling him exactly what she thinks of him and what she wants to do to him. She imagines the fishhook sinking into his eyeball, the wet sound it would make, just like the boy in her games. It would be so _easy_ and it would be so much better than that snake deserves.

But instead she's here with a boy of sixteen telling him that he should let himself be manipulated by a system designed to tear him down. She feels sick.

"It's not my place to tell you what decision you should make," she says. "No one will judge you either way, especially not me. However, I just want to make you aware that if you say no there will be consequences."

"What sort of consequences?" his brows scrunch as he tries to read her expression. "What is he going to ask me?"

But all Mags can think is _too young, too young. _She feels the tear slipping down her cheek before she is even aware that her eyes are wet

"I'm sorry boy", she whispers. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have let it come to this. I should have let you die in that arena." His eyes widen a little at her confession, but still he moves his tanned finger to her cheek to wipe away the escaping tear.

"No Mags. It's not your fault. You saved me," he whispers back.

"No," She closes her eyes. She can't look at him right now. "I knew that this would happen. I should have let you die."

XXX

She doesn't go to the party.

She stays at the kitchen table as the light grow dimmer and dimmer.

She doesn't have to wonder what choice he will make. She's always known. She chose to mentor him because she saw herself in the boy. He will say yes. Just like she did.

XXX

When Mags was a child the world had been at war. The Dark Ages, they called it now, but even decades later Mags can still remember the bright lights that had burned up the sky before exploding in the air. She remembers sleepless nights spent cowering under the kitchen table with her brother and grandmother as the bombs fell around them outside. She remembers the unrelenting terror that her parents wouldn't be coming home, that one of the screams in the night might belong to them.

She remembers that even in the middle of that she had managed to sleep, but her dreams were not her friends. Full of shadowy figures and blazing fires and people dying, she hardly ever slept through the night without waking up.

When she won the Hunger Games however, her dreams were black and empty and instead the terror was in her waking hours when she saw her face in a reflection and remembered what she was capable of. What she would selfishly sacrifice to live. Who she would sacrifice. Then, sleep was a welcome relief if she could find it, from the horror of being awake, of being alive. And though she dreamt of murder and betrayal none of her imaginings could touch her in the same way as the terrible knowledge of the truth.

Now, Mags isn't sure if she sleeps or not, her racing mind turning over her own loss of innocence. The rough hands and sickly sweet perfumes and too soft sheets. The revulsion that coated her skin that she could never wash off, no matter how often she scrubbed her skin red and raw. Her mind brings up the bright eyed face of the boy. _Too young_. The images swirl together until she's not sure what she's seeing or where she is and who is there. If she sleeps, she does not recall the dream.

XXX

When she next opens her eyes it's light and she's still hunched at the table and the boy is standing in the doorway.

The red glitter on his cheek is smudged and his hair is a mess, but he's here and he's whole. If his eyes are a little wider than normal, or his steps a little slower than usual, Mags doesn't mention it. Instead she simply stands, and draws him into her comforting arms and holds him as his body shakes.

(If her shoulder becomes a little wet where his face presses into she doesn't mention it either).

She's not sure how long they stand like this, but when it's over Mags finds her jar of sugar cubes and they both sit back at the kitchen table, crunching.

It's still early and the sounds of a city waking up filter in through the open crack of the window.

When his hands finally stop shaking, the boy speaks.

"It's going to be like this now, isn't it?"

This is how their relationship has always been. The boy understands far too easily, far more willingly than Mags wants him to. Too accepting, too mouldable. The perfect pawn.

He starts drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

Mags can't look at him.

"It's not going to stop." There's an edge his voice now, something dark creeping in. "If the Capitol says dance, I dance right?"

The rhythm of his drumming makes something hot pulse in her brain. Mags squeezes her eyes shut.

"Look at me," he commands sharply, and she forces down the beating in her head. She opens her eyes.

"How long?" he demands, fingers stilling.

"Until they've had enough," she tells him.

What she doesn't tell him is that that day might never come. They'll take every part of him that he has to offer and drain it dry and then try to shake him for more, until one day they will have stolen all of him and not even Mags will be able to help him find the way back to himself.

No.

She's the only protection he really has from the Capitol, and even that's not enough.

She determines then and there that she will never let that happen to the boy. The boy who reminds her so much of herself at that age. She makes a silent promise to him now: to always be there when he needs her, to always hold him when he cries. To always tell him the truth when he needs to hear it.

Boy, being a mentor sure isn't just a day gig.


	15. Finnick (7)

**Finnick Odair, aged 15. The Capitol**

_"_This is what I'm good at,_" he had told Mags. And whilst he hadn't really believed it when he said it he was beginning to realise it actually was true. He had lost count of all the rich and famous faces he had met, of how many people had come up to him to shake his hand, or gush about how much they loved and admired him. It's so far away from the wet ropes and stinking nets he'd always thought his future might hold. It's so close to the dream he'd always held secret and close to his chest. The dream where he was rich and famous and _somebody_, instead of another grey district face._

_There's something nagging at his brain though. A thread of guilt churning up his gut, a voice whispering in his head about how he doesn't deserve this. Reminding him what he did; of all the disgusting things he did. How dare he enjoy himself tonight when he's standing on so many corpses. The voice sounds like Sagitarria._

_But tonight it's easy not to listen to that voice. Tonight it's drowned out by the laughter and the music and the compliments. The colourful cocktails perhaps are helping as well, more than he'd like to admit. Finnick plucks another one, bright green this time, off of the tray offered to him by an avox. It tastes like stars. Yes, this is what he's good at._

_The pink haired woman leaning against him pushes closer, her breasts pressing into his chest._

_"Were you scared?" she asks._

_A man somewhere behind him has his fingers in Finnick's hair, stroking the strange bronze curls gently. Another fan still is tracing the net pattern of Finnick's shirt. Their fingers are warm and sticky._

_Finnick is feeling more than a little drunk by now. Alcohol is scarce in District Four, and he thinks the room might be spinning a little bit. He doesn't notice at first when the conversations around him begin to quiet. He doesn't see the President until he's standing right in front of him. There's a woman standing with him, with long golden hair trussed up high on top of her head. The strands curl down the back of her neck like a waterfall. She's dressed in swathes of blue, many different shades, that remind Finnick somewhat of a cresting wave, just before it crashes over your head. Two long jewel encrusted tridents hang from her earlobes._

_"What a pleasure it is to have you back in the Capitol, Mr Odair" the President is saying. He looks the same as he always has, for as long as Finnick remembers seeing him on television. Finnick wonders how old he must be. The strong cloying smell coming from the rose in his buttonhole is thick and unpleasant, and together with the swirling in his head it's making Finnick feel a little nauseous._

_"I must introduce you to someone special," the President continues, gesturing at the blond woman with him. "This is Hortensia Wildrock, Mr Odair. She was the one who paid for your trident."_

_Hortensia Wildrock extends her hand toward Finnick at this statement, and at a lack of understanding what the expected response to this is, Finnick takes the proffered hand gently into his and kisses the back lightly._

_"Thank you," he says to her, surprising himself when he realises he's being sincere. "That trident saved my life." He doesn't let himself think of the blood that stained his palms. Tonight, this is what he's good at._

_"Indeed," President Snow says simply. "I would think that you owe Mrs Wildrock quite a debt."_

_The smile that plays her lips is wide and blood red._


	16. Aurelia (1)

_So this chapter is a little different._

_For this chapter I really wanted to try and get more of an outsider's view. It seems to me because that, for most of us, our lives are probably more like those of the Capitol citizens, than the Districts. Therefore, it seemed important to get a Capitol perspective, so many of the things that might seem strange from a District perspective, are part of normal life here. I'm hoping that Aurelia comes across more as someone we can understand and relate to, and as someone rather naïve to the horrors her world is built on._

**"Old or young, lovely or plain, rich or very rich, he'll keep them company and take their extravagant gifts, but he never stays, and once he's gone he never comes back." – Catching Fire, Chapter 15**

**AURELIA (1)**

_**Aurelia Brightscape, aged 18. The Capitol**_

It all happens, as most things seem to happen in Aurelia's life, because of Cordelia. Well, actually in this case, technically speaking, it all happens because of Cordelia's new boyfriend.

"Tiberius Summervile," she'd gushed the first time she'd told Aurelia about it. "Can you believe it, Rey? Tiberius Summerville wants me to be his date to his show next week."

Aurelia could well believe it considering they had been spending the best part of several weeks together leading up to this moment. To be honest, she wasn't sure why Cordelia was all that surprised. She probably wasn't. All this gushing was probably just Cordelia boasting about the fact that she was dating a minor celebrity.

Well, minor celebrity is stretching it. In Cordelia's circles, her friends from fashion school, Tiberius Summerville is somewhat of a superstar, an up-and-coming stylist who is expected to make it all the way to Hunger Games fashion. (His dark eyes and floppy hair probably don't help in this aspect either). To the general population however, his is a name that might occasionally appear at a fashion show, and outside of that is more or less unrecognisable.

Still, Aurelia is happy for her older sister. Or at least she was for the first few weeks. After several months of hearing Cordelia talk about 'Tib this' and 'Tib that' it starts to get a little grating. There are only so many times she can listen to tales of how funny Tiberius is, or how good looking, or how clever and creative. She has only ever met Tiberius once, when he'd come to the house to pick up her sister, but Aurelia's impression of him then was that he was a bit too stuck up on his apparent genius. In fact, Aurelia is quite content to ignore his existence entirely (as much as that is possible when Cordelia won't shut up about him).

That is, until the day he lands the jackpot.

Aurelia walks into the kitchen one day and finds her sister like this:

"Oh my God, Aurelia! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She's squealing, phone still clutched in her palm. She looks like she's about to burst, so Aurelia feels duty bound to ask her what she's making so much noise about.

"Oh my God, Aurelia," she gasps once more. "Finnick Odair is going to model in Tib's show! Finnick Odair!"

Finnick Odair. Wow. Now he's a proper celebrity.

The truth is Finnick Odair held somewhat of a special place in Aurelia Brightscape's adolescent heart. She was fifteen when he won his Hunger Games, and at that age her heart was full of all sorts of romantic notions that she would now fervently deny if asked.

Practically everyone at her Capitol girl's private school had been obsessed with Finnick Odair that year in the way that teenage girls do best. Suddenly everyone was wearing trident jewellery and dying their hair bronze and covering their bags in little 'Four' badges. The most well-connected girls managed to get tickets to be in the audience at one of his interviews. Others hung around outside the tribute centre trying to get a glimpse of him. Her friend Camilla had bragged to anyone would listen that her family were going to District Four on holiday that summer and that she was going to meet Finnick Odair and make him fall in love with her. Aurelia had even had a shell bracelet that year, like Finnick's tribute token, that she wore on her wrist every day until the string frayed.

But Aurelia is eighteen now, and the teenage crush she'd had on Finnick has since faded, removing the rose-tinted lens she'd used to view him through. Finnick Odair is attractive, physically. You'd have to been blind not to see that. However, he's not the person she'd used to daydream about. He's just another too rich, too pretty, boy. Every time he's in the Capitol the tabloid holos carry a new story of his wild partying, his extravagant clothing, his numerous sexual exploits. He's a figure that introverted, homebody Aurelia struggles to connect with.

Even so. Finnick Odair. Wow.

Cordelia sees it in her face.

"Do you want to come?"

XXX

The fashion show is exciting. Aurelia's doesn't know much about Capitol high fashion, unlike her sister, but she appreciates the bright colours and symmetrical faces and glitz and glamour of it all. There are a few celebrities in the crowd: a famous singer, several soap actors and a holo , Aurelia feels very important as they take seats on the very front row that Tiberius had managed to procure for them.

Nothing happens for quite a while. Cordelia seems unphased.

"Fashion shows always run late, Rey." She says in the sort of casual demeanour that makes it seem as though she's been to a million shows like this, although Aurelia knows the closest experience she's had to this is her fashion college's end of semester event.

When it does finally start, Cordelia takes out a little holo pad and starts taking little notes. Aurelia watches the models. There seems to be a bit of a theme going on- they all have tight curls coiffed to the top of their heads. Most of them also seem to have been doused with a fair bit of golden hair spray. Many of them also seem to be wearing the most outrageous boots that Aurelia has seen on a real-life person. Thick platform heels, shiny leathery material, often covered in multiple silver studs and gems. Aurelia is quite jealous really. She would love a killer pair of boots like that. (Maybe Cordelia could get some off Tiberius?)

Still, most of the show she spends waiting. Every time a new model appears she looks for Finnick Odair, but it's not him. It's another tall, skinny coiffed model wearing outlandish boots. Still she's knows he's coming. Everyone knows. There's a certain tension in the crowd although they're trying to play cool about it.

Another model appears. It's not him.

Until it is.

As an androgynous looking model wearing very little apart from their thigh high killer boots disappears backstage, suddenly it's him walking down the catwalk. His curls have been coiffed just as tightly, and there's a hint of gold at the highest point, although his hair is pretty much golden in colour anyway. Tiberius has dressed him in a beige, angular looking jacket that lies open across his tanned chest. On his bottom half he's wearing what seems to be a black jumpsuit, heavily covered in zips, folded down at his waist. At his neck, a thick silver chain with multiple hanging medallions is casually draped, and on his feet are off course a pair of wicked black leather platform boots. It's a bizarre combination but somehow it works.

Aurelia feels, rather than hears, the photographer's cameras pick up their pace as Finnick makes his way down the centre of the room. Cordelia has latched onto her arm, her long fingernails digging in painfully, as she tries to contain her excitement.

He's right in front of them when he stops and turns. So close that Aurelia could reach out and touch him if she wanted. If she could dislodge the death grip her sister has on her arm.

He doesn't look at them. He keeps his gaze fixed high and distant. Aurelia thinks he's not seeing any of it.

XXX

At the end of the show Tiberius appears and is immediately swarmed by people and cameras. Cordelia decides she wants to try and fight her way through the crowd to be with him. Aurelia suspects she's just hoping to get her photo on the holonet. Aurelia however has no interest in the crowds of people, and no interest in the afterparty Cordelia is talking about, so she tells her she'll meet her back at home. Cordelia hands her the car keys and waves her off happily, already heading off in the direction of Tiberius, so Aurelia tries to work out in which direction she needs to go to escape. It's a big building and she's not entirely sure which door they entered through, so after several laps of the room she decides to just pick a door and see where it leads her.

Nowhere, it turns out. The door leads to a dimly lit staircase that, judging from its bare concrete walls, is only intended for staff to use. Aurelia is just trying to decide whether she turn around and try another door, or see where these steps lead when she realises she's not alone. He's half a flight of stairs up from her, leaning against a wall and looking miserably down a phone clutched in his palm.

It's Finnick Odair.

He doesn't seem to have bothered touching his hair which is still coiffed up, but he has changed into a simpler outfit- soft knitted jumper and dark grey trousers. He notices her at about the same time she sees him, and his expression visibly sours.

"What do you want?" he says. His accent is the first thing that strikes her. It's much stronger here than Aurelia has ever heard him use before in an interview and for a moment she lets her brain get distracted by it. A moment too long. She can see the annoyance building in his face and forces herself to find an answer.

"I don't- nothing. I don't want anything." She pulls the words out of her mouth uncomfortably. It's really him. Wow. This doesn't feel real. She feels disconnected from this moment. Wow. She's talking to Finnick Odair.

Finnick Odair snorts at her response. He's tapping at the phone in his hand.

"Everyone wants something from me," he says, still looking down at the phone.

"I was just trying to find the way out," Aurelia tries to say, but Finnick Odair's not listening. He's talking over her.

"Tonight's my night off, OK? I'm not having sex with anybody."

What?

She must say it out loud because suddenly he's looking up at her, and Aurelia can see he's trying to backtrack their conversation. Or rather his rant.

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "Forget I said anything." His face is just as beautiful as ever, but there's something in the set of his shoulders and the desperate tapping of his fingers against his phone that seems off. And, of course, the fact that he's standing alone in a dark stairwell.

"Are you alright?" she asks, which seems to both amuse and irritate him again.

"Can't get a phone signal," he says simply.

"You can borrow mine if you need to call somebody?" she offers tentatively. She doesn't want to make him angry again, but she isn't sure what will set him off.

"Why?" he asks. It's a strange response, and Aurelia is not really sure what he means. This whole interaction has been very odd to tell the truth.

"Don't you need to call someone?" She feels stupid even asking the question. Of course he does. That's why he's upset he can't get a phone signal. But what else is he expecting her to say?

"So I can just borrow your phone?" Finnick asks frowning.

Yes. Wow. What is so difficult about this. Aurelia is starting to feel a bit annoyed, which is something she never thought she'd feel if she ever met a celebrity.

"You don't have to." She's trying to work out how she can escape from this awkward interaction now. Would it be really weird if she just left now, back through the door she came through? Surely not any weirder than this conversation. Then at least she would be away from here and its not like she would ever meet Finnick Odair again.

She's just stealing herself to do it when Finnick speaks again.

"Sorry. I guess I'm just a bit suspicious of people. If I could borrow your phone that would be amazing." He actually attempts a smile then, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Sure," Aurelia says, digging around in her coat pocket. Finnick comes down the stairs towards her, until they're standing level. He's so close. Aurelia is starting to feel a little starstruck again.

She unlocks her phone and hands it over to him.

He obviously feels like he owes her some more explanation, so he keeps talking.

"A car was supposed to pick me up after the party later, but I don't think I can face it.I just want to call them to send a car now instead."

Well that's something Aurelia can relate to.

"Yeah, I'm actually trying to escape that party as well. If I can work out how to get out of here."

"Oh yeah?" Finnick's smile looks more natural now. She's amusing him again. "Not a big partier?"

"Definitely not. I'd much rather be at home watching 'The Way of the Sorcerer'," she laughs. Then she blushes. Why did she have to say that to Finnick Odair? Now he's going to think she's such a dork.

But to her surprise Finnick just frowns curiously, and asks, "What's that?"

So she finds herself telling him all about her favourite holo show, probably going into far more detail than he really wanted. He doesn't interrupt her though. He actually asks questions and seems genuinely interested.

"You should watch it," she says.

"Yeah. Maybe I will," he smiles. Then he finally excuses himself to make the phone call.

XXX

**Holophone Message**

**To: Aurelia Brightscape**

**From: Unknown**

_Does Nellie die?_

**Holophone Message**

**To: Unknown**

**From: Aurelia Brightscape**

_Who is this?_

**Holophone Message **

**To: Aurelia Brightscape**

**From: Unknown**

_It's Finnick. Does Nellie die, because I'm going to need to buy a load of chocolate if she does?_

**Holophone Message**

**To: Finnick Odair**

**From: Aurelia Brightscape**

_I'm not going to tell you. You'll just have to watch and find out._

**Holophone Message**

**To: Aurelia Brightscape**

**From: Finnick Odair**

_That's not helpful._

**Holophone Message**

**To: Finnick Odair**

**From: Aurelia Brightscape**

_Get the chocolate anyway then you're prepared either way. You can never have too much chocolate._

**Holophone Message**

**To: Aurelia Brightscape**

**From: Finnick Odair**

_I think my stylists would beg to differ._

XXX

She had thought that would be all she ever heard of Finnick Odair, excluding the news of course. His face still regularly popped up on gossip new channels regularly, whenever he was in the Capitol which seemed to be multiple times a year.

And then one day he suddenly starts messaging her. And not just messaging her- messaging her about 'The Way of the Sorcerer'. Wow. It's been a while since she had something to geek out with over that holo show. She never thought she would be able to geek out with Finnick Odair.

Through his messages, Aurelia begins to build up a different picture of who Finnick Odair is. Of course, he's just as funny and charismatic as he is on the holonet, but instead of the flirtatious charm he seems to deploy exclusively in interviews, she's finding that his sense of humour is much more sarcastic and self-deprecating.

She gives him more suggestions of holo shows to watch, and they discuss those too. He seems to like any ridiculous fantasy shows with copious amounts of magic and quests the best. He does like to laugh about Capitol reality holo dramas, although he says it hits a bit close to home. Aurelia realises he's probably met most of the stars.

(He doesn't like any of the gory violent holo shows).

Then one day he says he's in town. Does she want to meet up?

And that's how she becomes friends with Finnick Odair.

"I don't really have any friends," he tells her.

"Not even back home?" Aurelia says.

"I used to," Finnick says, frowning. "But it sort of got all weird when I won. I guess they see me differently now."

It's weird, being friends with someone famous. Finnick always wears dark glasses and a hat when they go out, but people still recognise him. Aurelia is usually the one that has to take photographs when they get stopped. Sometimes they just don't stop. Sometimes Finnick just grabs her hand and pulls her away and they run away to hide laughing. Sometimes they have to run away from cameras.

Still it's fun. Finnick is fun.

Cordelia thinks Aurelia and Finnick are dating (and so of course is amazingly jealous). It's not like that though. Finnick is her friend. She thinks he needs a friend much more than he needs a girlfriend. Besides can you imagine being Finnick Odair's girlfriend? No thank you, that sounds far too stressful and Finnick is simply far too unavailable.

They go for coffee mostly. Finnick likes his sweet with ridiculous quantities of sugar. Aurelia takes him to all the best coffee shops she knows and at each one he orders the most outlandish, sickly sweet, monstrosity on the menu. Aurelia sticks to her cappuccino. After a few months, she realises he's never had a milkshake so they then have to go and sample a milkshake at every place she can think of that sells them.

He tells her about his life in District Four. About his home and his life and his family.

One day he talks about the Hunger Games.

"What's it like to win the Hunger Games?" Aurelia asks. They're sitting outside a cafe on central avenue, drinking iced coffee.

"It's… it's not what I expected," Finnick says.

"In what way?"

"I wanted this. I wanted the fame and the money and the attention. But the reality… It's like… I feel I'm living in a dream I once had. Like one of those really vivid dreams you get with a fever, when you're ill. A dream that starts off beautiful but then you realise everything is not quite right, and that really it's all ugly underneath."

He's talking about the Capitol she realises. Finnick hates the Capitol although he won't tell her as much. He likes to pretend he's happy here, but Aurelia is beginning to realise he doesn't choose to be here. She's beginning to realise that maybe he doesn't have complete control over his life.

(She's beginning to realise that he's not at all the person the holonet makes him out to be).

"I thought so many times about what it would be like to win the Hunger Games," Finnick says. "About how I would be, how I would feel but nothing is quite what I envisioned. Like, I was too young, or too naïve to properly see things the way they were. It's all a big lie, winning the Hunger Games. What they tell you… it's all a big misconception."

Aurelia lets his words sink in for a moment. She listens to the sounds of the passing traffic.

"A fever dream misconception," she says, sounding the words out in her mouth. "Sounds like a title for one of your poems."

This makes him laugh for a moment.

"I'm not sure a poem about how my feverish misconceptions have fallen false of reality would be well received by the president," he says. He doesn't like the president either. Aurelia thinks maybe the president is the one that makes him come to the Capitol.

"No, perhaps not," she agrees. "Maybe you would write it just for me though."

"Maybe," he agrees.

She doesn't seem him for quite a long time after that meeting, although she knows he's been in the Capitol. The holonet is full of pictures of him out partying with socialites. She asked him once why he was always out partying.

"It's expected of me," he says which does make sense when she thinks about it. A lot of the Victors seem to go out partying. Still, Aurelia couldn't help feeling that Finnick doesn't really enjoy it.

It's several months later when there is a knock at the door one morning. It's about 10am and luckily Aurelia is the only one home, else it might be difficult to explain why Finnick Odair is on the doorstep. Especially considering the way he's dressed.

But Finnick Odair is on the doorstep and he looks awful. Not awful ugly because if course Finnick will always be beautiful, but there is smudged makeup around his eyes and his hair is all sticking up at a weird angle and are those feathers in the back? He's wearing tight, tight leather trousers, a velvet cape, streaks of golden body glitter and very little else. There's bruising around his neck and wrists and his pupils are blown wide.

Aurelia invites him in.

He stumbles a bit and so she helps him stay upright. She makes him some coffee and tells him to take a shower and half an hour later he's sitting on her family's sofa wrapped up in a blanket and wearing a pair of her father's trousers.

He still seems quite out of it, but maybe the coffee is helping a bit. He won't tell her what happened, but the bruising and the clothing and the fact that he's obviously coming down off some drug paints a certain picture. Until he starts crying that is and Aurelia becomes even more confused.

They watch the holo for a while, one of Finnick's favourite fantasy dramas until his hands have stopped shaking and he's beginning to seem more like himself again. He leaves before anyone else gets home and they never talk about it again. But from that moment on, Aurelia worries about him every time she sees a picture of him out partying. She worries that no one will be there in the morning to make him coffee, and she worries that no one will be there to hold him when he cries.

("What's it like being a Victor?" she asks him once.

"It's knowing you're never going to be free," Finnick says.)


	17. Finnick (8)

**Finnick Odair, aged 17. The Capitol**

_Cashmere has been with him tonight, in a foul mood as usual. She can't hide her distain when they are finally allowed to leave, and Finnick tries to flatten down his hair at the back._

_(Her hair is a wild puff about her shoulders, but she doesn't seem to care)._

_"Leave it Odair," she says. The other Victors almost always just called him Odair. "They all know what you've been doing anyway. What's the point in trying to hide it?"_

_Of all the Victors, Finnick has found that Cashmere is the most cynical. She hated the world, which only made them cling on tighter._

_"Maybe I just want to try and salvage some of my dignity," Finnick snaps back._

_He can still feel the man's skin and his hands and his heat and smell the of his sheets and the scrape of his teeth against Finnick's neck. Even when he closes his eyes he can still hear his raspy breath against his ear and still feel the throbbing pain between his legs. He feels sick and disgusted by his own skin. Sick and violated._

_(No matter how red and raw he scrubs at his skin he can't scrub it clean from his mind)._

_"Dignity?" Cashmere laughs. "There's no dignity in being a whore."_


	18. Hayden (3)

**"****If you refuse he kills someone you love. So you do it"- Mockingjay, Chapter 12**

**HAYDEN (3)**

**_Hayden Odair, aged 21. District 4_**

When something awful happens, afterwards, everyone always says that it all happens so quickly. That events all blur together. That, afterwards, there's just a cold sense of shock and a lack of understanding. But that's not the case for Hayden.

He remembers every second of what happened, with a bone chilling clarity that doesn't leave him still, years after the event. Is this what it's like to be Finnick, he thinks later. To have seen something horrendous and been helpless to stop it. To see it again and again.

_(But no, Finnick didn't see something horrendous. He was the something horrendous.)_

Perhaps what was _so_ awful about that day, was that before it became the worst day of his life ever, it had been becoming the best day ever of his life.

To start with, Finnick was away again, which immediately put Hayden in a much better mood.

"When is Finnick coming home," Sammy always asked their parents when he had been away for too long.

(_How long is too long to be away from a place and yet still live there?_)

The boy who had always been shinier, brighter, than Hayden, barely even remembered he had a family these days. So many days, weeks, months were spent out of reach of them all now, in the Capitol. The home of the rich and the famous.

(_Was that what Finnick was now?)_

Hayden's parents always soothed her with white lies. 'He's doing important work for the President' or 'all Victors need to go to the Capitol a lot', or Hayden's favourite lie- 'Finnick will be home soon'.

Hayden wondered how his parents could excuse Finnick's behaviour so easily. Surely they couldn't be alright with their eighteen year old son attending wild and scandalous events in the Capitol that were broadcast to the world. Surely they couldn't be alright with his well-known proclivity for much older lovers, people sometime around his parent's own age, who he moved through so quickly, without even a second glance. Surely they couldn't be alright that Finnick had now abandoned them, his family, for the Capitol. Hayden had tried asking his parents about it, but his father never wanted to talk about his second son's absence and Hayden's mother always tried to fob him off with the same lies she fed Sammy.

"Finnick is a Victor. He has to do what he has to do."

How could that be true though, when none of the other Victors of District Four were in the Capitol, partying, every other week? Hayden was even tempted to confront Finnick's old lady mentor, Mags, at one point when she was visiting their home, but her cold eyes and sharp tongue put him off before he could find the words.

Sometimes Hayden felt like he was the only one who seemed to care that Finnick had turned into a completely different person. The truth was it seemed, quite simply, that Finnick didn't need them anymore and he didn't really want them. Hayden's brother was living the life he had always wanted for himself where he was a star, desired by the world, living a life of frivolity and freedom.

Hayden was almost happy for him, in the only bitter twisted way he could allow himself to be happy for his little brother, if only it weren't constantly being splashed in Hayden's face. The holonet was obsessed with not only his Capitol parties and much older, richer, lovers, but also his appearance and the way he dressed and the silly vapid comments he made to the reporters who seemed to be forever flocking to him. The anger he tried to swallow up came not just from the fact that Finnick was his _younger_ brother (to live in a younger sibling's shadow is never easy) but also because Hayden shared Finnick's bronze curls, long tanned limbs, and angular features, and with it had a mind filled with much more that the flirty innuendos that seemed to be all his brother could produce. Yet all the world was obsessed with Finnick whilst Hayden was just another cog in his District's machine.

When Finnick was away however, it was easier to forget he ever had a brother. Easier to step back into the footprints of his old life. (Old job, old friends, Mab. _Mab._)

His friends used to ask about Finnick when he first came back from the Games. Then, being Finnick Odair's friend (or neighbour or acquaintance) was something to boast about. Perhaps they thought some of Finnick's fame would rub off on them. Perhaps they thought his easy life would benefit them all. Hayden's heart still clenched every time he remembered the way Mab has asked about his little brother back then. 'How is Finnick?', 'Is Finnick coming today', 'Do tell Finnick we're thinking about him'.

But as the weeks and months passed, and Finnick's absence became more and more pronounced their friends had learned the same bitterness that Hayden had always found so easy to summon around his brother, and they had hardened their hearts to Finnick Odair. Every so often Finnick would make an appearance down on the beach at their driftwood fire, but there was a distance there now that had never been there when they were all children. A normal part of life perhaps, growing up and moving on. Drifting apart. However, Finnick's currents were taking him further and faster away than the rest of them. The cold part of Hayden's heart couldn't help but be warmed by the fact that this group of friends preferred him, Hayden, over the wonderful and remarkable Finnick Odair.

Did that make him a bad person? (Did he really care?)

XXX

The best day (so far) of Hayden Odair's life goes like this:

It is late afternoon, and they're down at the beach, at their driftwood fire. The usual gang: Hayden, lanky Joe, Leila, whose grandmother had lived down the lane back when Hayden lived a normal life. And Joe's sister, Mab. Oh Mab.

Hayden has never found the courage to tell her how he feels about her. He's never been good with people, knowing the right words to say. Not like Finnick. (Why can't you forget about Finnick for once?) But now, Hayden and Mab sit together now, enjoying the late afternoon sun whilst Hayden fixes nets, like he always has, and Mab threads shells onto bracelets for the tourists. Leila and Joe are deep in a conversation of their own across the firepit from them, so Hayden and Mab sit in a comfortable silence.

Hayden tries not to look at her, but she's so close and he's so, so in love. Mab. Oh, Mab. She's so beautiful of course, but she's so much more than that as well. Her easy laugh, her strong confidence, her kind heart. She's so kind that Hayden aches to find such goodness within himself when he's in her presence, if only to prove himself worthy of her.

Her long blond hair catches the late afternoon rays and for a moment he's captivated. Which is when she catches him looking. Hayden turns away immediately, of course. He can feel his cheeks beginning to turn red and wishes more than anything in that moment he could control his treacherous blush.

But then he feels her soft hand on his arm, and he can't help but look back up at her. Her eyes are big and there's something in them Hayden can't quite read.

"I don't mind if you look at me Hayden," Mab says softly, as tentatively she moves her hand down his arm to cover his own palm.

He looks down at it.

They're holding hands. Sort of.

Has Hayden been that obvious then that Mab has known all along how he feels about her? Could it be possible that she feels even a fraction of the emotion in Hayden's chest, for him?

He can't say, but the rapid beating of his heart lets him know something is about to happen before it does.

She kisses him, and it's soft and warm and everything, just like her.

He kisses her back and his heart feels so full he thinks it might burst.

"What was that for?" he says when it's over.

"Because you're you," Mab smiles back, which makes Hayden's heart swell even more. Is that smile because of him? Has he made _her_ feel this way?

Later he asks her why she chose him, over Finnick.

"I've never wanted Finnick," she says. "I've only ever wanted you."

Being Finnick Odair's brother has consumed his life for so long. The jealously and the anger and the bitterness is like a second skin. But here, in this moment, with Mab, he finally has something Finnick has never had. Finally, he's been picked first, and Finnick doesn't even matter.

(_Why has he let this control his life?_)

XXX

The worst day of Hayden Odair's life (ever) starts like this:

When he gets back to the house there's a hovercraft outside and the front door is flung wide, wide open. Hovercrafts come from only place. Hayden's never seen one before in person and normally he'd want to take a closer look, but a sudden flood of terror has captured his heart, and is dragging it downstream to a place he's only ever visited before in his worst nightmares.

His first instinct is to run. Run far, far away. But his feet are frozen to the stone path that leads the way across the grass to the houses in Victor's Cove. He doesn't want to go inside. If he doesn't, if he just stays here, he can pretend nothing is different. Nothing is out of the ordinary. He can go back to how wonderful everything was only five minutes ago. He can back to that perfect day, nothing has to ruin it. But he knows it's too late. From the moment he saw that hovercraft and the open door it had been too late. he can try to go back to how everything was, but it will still be lurking there at the back of his mind. And it will still be waiting for him when he finally does find the courage to cross that threshold.

Hayden is still deliberating about what he should do when he spots the blood in the doorway. Just a bloody smear, but enough to know that something had happened. And after that he can't ignore it any longer. What if there is someone inside hurt and bleeding out and Hayden, but just standing there, is letting it happen. Letting them die. No. No, it's time to be brave. It's time for Hayden to be a hero for once.

He steps inside the house.

The hallway is dark, but Hayden can immediately see signs of a struggle. Furniture has been knocked over, clothes are strewn all over the floor, as if hurriedly thrown to the ground, and a lamp has been smashed falling down. And off course there's more blood. Hayden can feel his heart thumping in his chest and once more his whole body seems paralysed with fear, but he forces his feet forward and he heads further into the house. He wants to close his eyes. He knows that whatever he's about to see will haunt him for years, every time he closes his eyes. He wants to turn around and find Mab and bury his face in her neck and forget this house. Forget the hovercraft, the Capitol. Forget Finnick. Because surely whatever is happening here is because of Finnick. What has he done to bring _them_ here?

He holds his breath as he opens the next door.

And then wishes he hadn't.

There's a man standing in the centre of the room. A man Hayden has never seen before, with sallow skin, dark hair, and black eyes. His clothes are black too, but the cut looks far to refined to be from around here. This man is from the Capitol.

But it's not the man that causes the panic streaming through Hayden's veins, it's the gun that's the man is holding, and the person who the gun is being aimed at.

It's his father, on his knees, in front of this Capitol stranger, the gun barrel pressed right up against his forehead. Tomas Odair doesn't look well. There's blood streaked across his cheek (did that blood in the hallway belong to him?) and his clothes look crumpled and torn. And his eyes, his eyes look so hollow and dull and empty. Something terrible has happened here.

"Hello Hayden," the man says when he sees him. Hayden wonders how long he's been standing there, pointing a gun to his father's head, and just waiting for him.

"Don't hurt him!" They're not quite the words Hayden had meant to say. He had so many questions. Who was this man? Why was he here? Where was everyone else? What the hell was going on?

The man seems to be able to read this on Hayden's face however and answers all the unasked questions without prompting.

"Finnick Odair has a responsibility to the Capitol, one which last night he failed to fulfil. He knew what the consequences of his actions would be, but it appears that the lives of his family meant so little to him that he was willing to sacrifice you all." The man gives a wry smile at this, and Hayden's fear comes bubbling right up to the surface once more. But the man continues.

"However, the President is feeling generous. You, Hayden, and that little sister of yours will be free to go."

That Tomas Odair, with the gun pressed up against his temple, is not so lucky goes unsaid.

"Where's my mother?" Hayden says. He wishes he could hide the desperation in his voice, but the man only grins wider.

"Your mother is dead, boy. Your uncle too. Killed in a boat crash if anyone asks. In fact, the whole boat crew didn't make it." The man readjusts his grip on the gun in his hand as if to highlight his point.

_No!_ Does he say it out? Hayden's not sure, but the man hears it anyway.

Tomas Odair is till silent, eyes vacant. Did he see Hayden's mother die? He's not even trying to fight back. He's given up, Hayden realises.

Which is when, suddenly, Hayden remembers himself. He makes to run forward, to snatch the weapon out of this Capitol man's hand and turn it back on him, but suddenly there's another man at Hayden's back holding him back. Desperation surges up, and Hayden struggles, to free himself, but the grip is tight. Unyielding.

_No_.

"This is because of your brother," the man says. Then he raises the gun until it rests right up against Hayden's father's head. "You tell him that this is what happens when you think you're above the rules."

And then he pulls the trigger.

And then Hayden's father is falling.

And somewhere, someone is screaming.

And then he realises it's him.


	19. Finnick (9)

**Finnick Odair, aged 18. The Capitol**

_When it happens it's an accident. An accident that was waiting to happen, really._

_"My dear friend, Catullus Nightflake, says you refused him," President Snow is saying, his voice sounding and though he is scolding a naughty pet for a slight imposition, although Finnick is not deceived and can still feel the pure terror curling in his belly. It wasn't as though he had meant to refuse the man, the word 'no' has just slipped out without consulting Finnick's brain. It wasn't meant to happen. _

(Finnick can't help wondering what the President's reaction would have been if he had been in Finnick's position when Catullus Nightflake was threatening to shove that thing us inside him.)

_"My dear boy," Snow continues, opening up his hands in a questioning expression. "I thought we had discussed this. I thought I had made it very clear what would happen if you left one of my friends… unsatisfied with their experience."_

_Finnick wonders if he should apologise, or just stay quiet. What does come out is worse still._

_"Please," Finnick says, and he realises he's begging. "Please. I'll make it up to Mr Nightflake."_

_"You will," President Snow agrees. "My Victors have a reputation that you need to help upkeep. I don't want to hear about this happening again."_

_"It won't, I promise." Finnick says, and he hates how pathetic he sounds in that moment, begging the man he hates to let him try again to please the man who wants to use his body solely for his own sexual pleasure. But if it will keep his family safe he doesn't care. If it will keep his family safe it's worth it. Anything is worth it._

_And as the car takes him back to Catullus Nightflake's fancy penthouse apartment in the city centre, Finnick thinks he's got away with it. He said 'no' and got away with it._

_However, a week later when he returns to District Four and sees the tear stained cheeks of his little sister, and the cold eyes of his elder brother he realises what a fool he could have been to ever think that he had won. The story is that his father's boat was lost at sea whilst fishing. His father and uncle are gone, and for some reason his mother too even though the motion of the boat made her seasick so she always stayed home. That confuses his sister Sammy._

_"I don't understand why Mum went out on the boat with them," she keeps saying, to anyone who will listen. "I don't understand."_

_Hayden understands though. _

_There are no bodies, so they bury empty caskets. Finnick feels his brother's cold, hard stare on the back of his neck throughout the funeral. When it's finished, Hayden doesn't say anything to Finnick, he just stalks off somewhere by himself._

_The next day he packs his bags and leaves Victor's village, taking Sammy with him._

_Finnick is left alone._


	20. Finnick (10)

**A poem by Finnick Odair for Aurelia Brightscape:**

Feverish Misconceptions

I had a fever dream that I was somebody

And that the world was opened up to me

For the name that I would one day embody

And the world watched.

I had a fever dream that I was worthy

Of the praise and consumption of adoration

So I gave them what I had and turned my edges blurry.

And the world talked.

I had a fever dream that I was remarkable

And to the whole world I was desirable

And everything stopped being proportional

And the world smiled.

I had a fever dream that I was luminous

That every part of me shone bright for someone else

Set alight by the vapid and unscrupulous

And the world was brainwashed.

For the light they saw soured my soul and left me gaping.

* * *

**So that's the end of Part One. Part Two of this story will be up soon, and it's about Annie. Hope you've enjoyed this and that you're all staying safe xx**


	21. Annie (1)

**PART TWO:**

**"Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?" I ask.**

**"No." A long time passes before he adds, "She crept up on me."- Mockingjay, Chapter 12**

**ANNIE (1)**

**_Annie Cresta, aged 18. The Capitol_**

Numb.

She feels numb. As in she doesn't feel. There's no anger, no sadness, no humour. Only a heavy cloud of grey that settles around her and makes her head swim with tiredness.

She's distantly aware of something, inside of her, but so very far away, that just wants to bleed, to scream, to take flight against the self-contained cage her mind has conjured for herself. It wants to shake against the brittle bars and hit something until every muscle in her arms and in her back are screaming, feeble and fatigued. It wants to keep on hitting until her voice is hoarse and her knuckles are bloody and until she finally feels alive again.

But it's so very far away, like a half-remembered dream, and the grey haze of her mind can't grasp onto it for long enough to pull it out.

She wants to sleep but there are so many people here in this white room with its white walls and white floor and white furniture. They're all dressed in white coats too. Too white. Capitol white. Pale, pale, pale.

Is she in the Capitol? No that doesn't make sense. Why would she be in the Capitol? She lives in District Four. The only people from District Four who go to the Capitol are the Hunger Games tributes and that's definitely not Annie. Annie Cresta would never volunteer for something like that.

The fact of the matter is that _no one_ really wants to be chucked into an arena with twenty-three other people to fight to the death, so following that line of logic Annie surmises that no one, from District Four at least, really wants to go to the Capitol. Yet Annie seems to be in the Capitol which is weird and doesn't make any sense at all. Unless maybe she's dreaming? She does feel very tired. (Can one be tired and be dreaming at the same time?)

There's a boy sitting next to her bed and he's not dressed in white. There's something vaguely familiar about his but it slips away before Annie can catch it. He's not wearing white and he's not moving around. In fact, he's looking at her with his too familiar face and suddenly Annie knows that he is real and therefore he must be able to tell her if this is a dream or not.

"Is this real?" She asks him.

"Yes," the boy says, and Annie trusts him without knowing why.

She's back to where she was before then. If this is real she must be in the Capitol and that doesn't make any sense, but she decided to ask the boy anyway. Maybe he knows what is going on.

"Am I in the Capitol?" Annie asks, and the boy says yes again.

"How did I get here?" Annie asks.

"There was a train," says the boy and suddenly Annie can remember it. She remembers sitting in the carriage as the world outside whizzes past her.

There's something else nagging at her brain as she remembers, but Annie ignores it.

It's not hard since she's suddenly remembering herself on one of the most luxurious train carriages that, to her mind, can possibly ever exist. Really, how much better can it get than honey roasted meats, exotic sauces, velvet seats and mahogany tables- there are so many things to look at, all at once, that Annie's eye keeps getting distracted by this shiny thing, or the light gleaming off of that shiny thing. Honestly, it should be easy to forget all about that other business.

But then the boy walks onto the train. (Although he doesn't because he's sitting next to Annie in the white, white room in the Capitol with all the people and that's _real_.) And the boy's familiar face is too familiar and he's Finnick Odair, of course. Annie feels stupid for forgetting him now. Everyone knows Finnick Odair.

And so Finnick Odair and Annie are both on the train and the thought scratching on the edge of her brain grows louder but she doesn't want to think about it but the sight of Finnick Odair here on the train with her is suddenly making her feel sick and clammy. And this train is so glamourous, and Annie is on it and why is she on it and how did she get here.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. She tries to push the walls she'd thrown up in her mind back into place.

_Don't think about it._

Something manages to slide through though.

Oh God. _Oh God. _The Hunger Games.

And then she remembers everything.

And then in the real world she's screaming and she can't stop and she won't stop and one of the white coated people sticks something into her arm and then she doesn't have to remember anymore.

XXX

The boy is still there when she wakes up again. Except he's not the boy he's Finnick Odair. She knows that now.

Everyone knows Finnick Odair.

Except nobody _knows_ Finnick Odair. But Annie does, because he's sitting next to her here in the white room so she must know him. And she does know him. She remembers now.

And she remembers now. She remembers everything: the train, the tribute centre, the interview. She remembers the arena: the mud, the water, the blood. She remembers the dam breaking and she remembers how the water rose up around her and she remembers how she swam and swam because she didn't know how to _not _swim.

Byron's head.

She remembers Byron's head. She remembers watching the District One boy bringing down his sword and slicing right through Byron's neck until it just wasn't there anymore.

No that's not true. The head was still there, it just wasn't attached to Byron anymore.

Byron's head wasn't attached to Byron anymore, but his blood was splattered all over Annie and the District One boy was laughing at her.

She remembers it all in a detached, clinical way. They're just the facts of what happened which Annie can now remember without falling apart because she's numb again. There's a needle in her arm letting her remember. Letting her be numb.

And she remembers Finnick Odair now. She knows Finnick Odair because he's her mentor. She was in the Hunger Games and he taught her all the dirty tricks her knew and pulled all the strings he could manage because he told her he was going to bring her home. She was his tribute and now she's not in the arena anymore, which means…?

"I won the Hunger Games?" Annie asks Finnick Odair.

"Yes," he says.

XXX

The Hunger Games.

It was pretty much impossible to see Finnick Odair right _there_ in front of her, and _not_ think Hunger Games. Finnick Odair is pretty much synonymous with the Hunger Games at this point. He is undeniably the perfect Victor: young, attractive, a career tribute. He's always spending time in the Capitol, living the promised life of luxury owed to a Victor. He's always supporting the president on political matters, always hanging out with illustrious Capitol citizens. He is a Hunger Games success story and the sudden sight of Finnick Odair appearing before her on the train to the Capitol made the Hunger Games far too real for Annie Cresta.

The next thing she knows she's sitting with her head between her legs on one of the velvet sofas and Geena, the Capitol representative for District 4, is stroking her back soothingly. She's saying something too in a comforting tone but, although Annie recognises the words, the way Geena is stringing them together doesn't seem to make any sense.

"I know, I know," she is saying. "You did look a little nervous up on stage, but with your hair in those braids you looked adorable. You did mostly pull it off. So much better than that girl from District nine. Honestly you looked fine, Annabel. Really, don't think about it."

Someone hands her a glass of water. Its crystal cut and the strange geometric shapes feel odd against her palm.

"I don't think she's worried about how her hair looked Geena," a male voice says, nearby. Annie realises that it's Finnick Odair again and that he was the one that handed her the glass.

"Oh, Finnick darling, girls worry about this sort of stuff. And boys too. You're just lucky that your hair looks so perfect all the time and you don't have these sorts of problems. Metella really is a genius." Geena sounds wistful. Annie still can't make sense of what she's talking about. "You don't know what it is, by the way, that she uses on your hair, do you?"

"Why don't you just ask her when we see her?" Finnick snaps. Seeing Finnick Odair angry (or, OK, maybe just mildly irritated here) is quite odd. Usually when Annie has seen him on the holonet before he's charismatic and a little outrageous, words dripping with charm. Witnessing him loosing his temper seems to humanise him in a way Annie hadn't anticipated.

"Anyway, can you leave us Geena? I need to chat with my tribute." It's very dismissive, and judging by the way Geena huffs and flounces out the room, drawing as much attention to her displeasure as she possibly can, Finnick doesn't normally talk to her like this.

Wait a minute- did he say his tribute?

Annie finally finds her voice.

"You didn't have to be so mean to her. She was only trying to help."

To be perfectly honest, Annie Cresta had never expected that if she ever met Finnick Odair she would be telling him off. Not that she had ever really expected to meet Finnick Odair. Even though they both lived in the same District there was something very unobtainable about Finnick Odair. Perhaps it was that he was always on the holonet in the Capitol. Perhaps it was just that everyone knew who he was.

Annie remembers quite clearly the year that he won. She was thirteen and of course, like everyone else in her class, she wanted him to win. It was something about the fact that he was more or less their age, from their District, and actually even from Annie's own school. (The fact that he was good looking didn't hurt). The Odair family had lived only a couple of streets away from the Cresta family it turned out, and Annie's brother, Liat, had actually been in Finnick's class at school although they weren't really friends. Annie hadn't really noticed Finnick in the school corridors before he was reaped, and afterwards he didn't actually come back to school, but still there was enough of a connection there for Annie and many of her peers to view him as 'one of them'.

When he did win though, he was suddenly everywhere else. Everyone wanted him and Finnick Odair began to belong less and less to their neighbourhood, and more and more to the Capitol. In that time Annie had grown up, and the Finnick Odair that could have been her neighbour, her colleague, her friend, slipped further and further away until he was just another famous name that appeared on the holonet.

But now he is right in front of her, calling her his tribute, and she is telling him off. Perhaps not the greatest first impression.

"Yeah, I guess so." Finnick pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning a little. "I'll apologise to her later. I just can't believe she thought a tribute's biggest problem was their appearance on camera."

"I guess the Capitol is just a very different place," Annie counters. Finnick Odair is right next to her, talking to her. It's a little surreal.

"You'd be right about that," Finnick says, a darkness creeping into his tone. "It has its own problems though."

Annie wants to ask him what he means by that, but something in face stops her. Instead she asks, "I thought you liked the Capitol? The holonet says you're there practically all the time."

"Certain things are expected of me I guess," he says, before straightening out his frown and turning to look at her properly. "Anyway, enough about me. Let's talk about you, Annabel Cresta, and how you're going to win the Hunger Games."

Certainly, Annie had had some preconceptions about Finnick Odair. It was common knowledge that he spent a lot of his time in the Capitol, and it was common knowledge that he had a long string of rich, older, lovers that were quickly disregarded. Knowing this, Annie had felt justified in judging him as somewhat of an arrogant flirt who's fame had gone to their head. However, this boy that she meets is not at all what she had anticipated.

Finnick Odair is fun, Annie learns within the first ten minutes of talking to him. He has a quick sense of humour and an easy charm that an put anyone, even a girl headed to an undignified televised slaughter, at ease.

"You, Annabel Cresta," He says. (He likes using her full name like that). "You are so lucky to have such a wonderful and fantastic mentor. I'll admit we fought over you- it got a bit messy- but in the end I managed to convince Adrian that you deserved only the very best."

(Adrian Telum is the other mentor this year. He's about fifty and has a reputation for being bit of a grump. Annie's quite glad she's not been assigned to him).

The way Finnick talks, on anyone else, might come across as stuck up an egotistical, but he's so theatrical as he speaks, that Annie knows he's simply trying to make her laugh.

They talk about her- her family and friends, school, her hobbies.

Finnick is so charming that Annie doesn't realise she's being more or less interviewed until after she's told him all about the way she likes to dive deeply for shells, the way she's learnt to gut fish for her father's stall, and the dagger training she'd been given at the Career Academy.

"Well I think you've got loads to work with, Annabel Cresta," he says, smiling at her.

"Annie," she corrects him.

"Annie." Finnick Odair says.

XXX

"I'll be honest, it's such a relief to finally be older than the tributes," Finnick says at the tribute centre. "They never take me seriously."

"You don't take yourself very seriously," Annie says, which is true because Finnick laughs a lot and is always smiling.

Except he's not smiling now, in the white room, where Annie is, which is _real_.

He's not smiling and he's not laughing because he's shouting at one of the white coated people. He's saying things that sound like, 'she's not ready', and 'she needs to go home', but the white coated people don't want to listen. They say words like 'interview' and 'president' and 'orders' and when they think she's not listening they hiss 'crazy' and 'mad girl'.

"Am I crazy now Finnick?" she asks him when he sits down again at her bedside.

It makes his brow furrow in the middle, and he leans in closer to her, taking her hands gently.

His eyes are big, and round and green, and his lashes are dark and ridiculously long.

_How pretty_, Annie thinks. Its what she always thinks when she looks at him.

"You're just as sane as I am," Finnick says which makes Annie realise that she must be crazy because Finnick is crazy. She knows that. How does she know that?

She has to think for a moment before she remembers the way he had danced around in the stylist's room when Annie was supposed to be getting dressed up for her interview. She'd been nervous to be on the holo, but then he'd rifled through the rack of clothes, and strutted around in the feathers and sparkles he had found there. Annie's stylist hadn't minded. In fact, she'd loved it.

(Everyone loves Finnick Odair.)

He'd plucked out a ludicrous cape which had shimmered like fish scales under the lights, and he'd draped it around Annie's shoulders.

"You're a bit crazy," Annie laughs.

"Let's be crazy together?" Finnick grins back, offering her his hand.

Annie never feels nervous when she's with Finnick Odair.

The night before she went into the arena he had taken her up to the roof of the tribute centre because she couldn't sleep. She remembers how Finnick had led her up there, shushing her and telling her they would get in trouble if anyone caught them up there. She remembers how he had laid on his back right there in the middle of the concrete area smiling at her with his pretty mouth and his pretty eyes and pretty curls and told her to lie down next to him.

"I like to come here and look at the stars," Finnick Odair had said which made Annie laugh because there are no stars in the Capitol. The bright lights of the city keep them away and surely Finnick Odair should know that because he's always in the Capitol.

He had just clucked at her and told her to focus on the sky and just to wait and so she did. She waited. And after a few minutes her eyes started to notice things she hadn't seen there before. Pinpricks in the dark canopy above them. Not as vast and as deep and the display she could see at home, but nonetheless, there they were. Stars in the Capitol.

"My father always taught me how to navigate by the stars when we were out sailing," Finnick had said. "So I would always know how to get home. I like knowing that they're still there, even when I'm away from home. If I can still see the stars I can't have gone too far."

Home. How Annie wishes she could go home.

In the real world, the white room with all the busy people, she looks at Finnick. He's still holding her hands, so carefully that she thinks she must be so fragile.

Finnick Odair told her he would bring her home.

She trusts him.


	22. Finnick (11)

**_Finnick Odair, aged 19. The Capitol_**

_Aurelia is smiling at him in a way that makes Finnick feel stupid._

_"__What?" he says._

_"__Annie this and Annie that. You can't stop talking about her," There's a wicked glint in Aurelia's eye as she leans in closer. "I think you've got a little crush, Finn."_

What. _It's such a completely ridiculous concept that Finnick bursts out laughing._

_"__Oh Aurelia," he says smoothly. "Don't be ridiculous."_

_But later when he's back at the tribute centre remembering her words, he thinks about it again. _

_He thinks about Annie's clever comments, and her big green eyes, and her innocence, and her easy laugh. He thinks about how different she is from his clients in the Capitol, how much more _real_ she is. He tries not the think about how the very idea of her in the arena makes something in his chest stutter and clench painfully._

_Is it ridiculous? What is she's right? What if, somehow without him noticing, Annie Cresta had crept underneath the walls he had put up to protect himself._

_Finnick Odair can't have a crush, that much is obvious. Finnick Odair can't ever have romantic feelings towards anyone- it's just not possible. He's got to think of Sammy, and Mags, and hell even Hayden. He needs to protect them. Finnick Odair cannot have a crush on anyone, and especially not on a tribute._


End file.
